When It Rains, When It Snows
by Anais Verhoevenhaven
Summary: When Ed's eighteenth birthday is ruined, Roy realizes Edwards secrets are deeper than they appear. Can Roy save Ed, from the memories which are not his own? Slight AU. RoyFemEd *DISCONTINUED*
1. When Roy Has 'Fun'

Roy Mustang knew The Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, was not, in the least, normal. He was stubborn and determined, hardly willing to fall or grovel at a persons feet. He was egotistical, not that Roy didn't see that in himself, and stroked his selfish nature almost as if he were possessed. But he had a good head on his shoulders, and was selfless and loyal, choosing the people he cared about over himself.

Not that Roy Mustang would ever admit to Fullmetal being anything more than a half pint midget with growth defects.

Roy Mustang had silky raven black hair that hung untidy in front of his fierce and cunning midnight blue eyes. He had a small face and a strong square jaw that was usually tight with anger or irritation. His face was unblemished with the exception of the faint tired wrinkles that surrounded his eyes and mouth indicating just how stressful his life was. He had an aristocratic narcissistic posture, and was usually dressed in the sophisticated blue uniform almost never seen in anything civil or normal. He was filled out, the wiry muscles on his arms and stomach quiet determinable. He was a notorious womanizer and lascivious playboy, having nearly half the female population clutch at him, begging for his sensual attention. Roy knew; quiet well, how to take advantage of that.

So how in the world could Roy be talked into this?

Roy slumped against his mahogany dresser, glancing up under his eyelashes at the clear mirror in front of him. He was shirtless, picking out an outfit by the plethora of clothes and accessories that were scattered through out the modestly large room. He was wearing a pair of grey skinny jeans, which clung tight to his muscular legs. A small silver chain led from his pocket to his belt loop, indicating his status as the infamous Flame Alchemist.

He ran his hands through his hands, tightening his grip as if to punish himself and yanked at it slowly. A frustrated sigh broke through his lips and he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes slowly and savoring the peaceful stillness of his fairly large apartment. He reached out blindly and touched the cool mirror, clamping his fist and weakly punching the smooth surface. He growled, obviously annoyed in himself and abruptly jerked away from the desk, turning around to observe the disaster that was suppose to be his bedroom.

Roy grabbed a random black shirt and threw it on, thrusting the white buttons through the holes with skilled fingers. He grabbed his blue zip up jacket and slung it over his shoulder, snagging his house keys from their place on his bed and stuffing them into his right pocket. He pulled the curtains close, flipped off the light switch, and, glancing at the blinking green numbers on his alarm clock, closed the door softly behind him.

He walked down the stairs two at a time before jogging into the kitchen and pulling the tallest cabinet open and groping attentively for the rough fabric. He jerked it out, slipping the white gloves; which had an intricate transmutation circle on the top, into his back pocket. He patted his pockets briefly, checking things off inside his head before switching off the light in the kitchen. As he walked out, an irking melodious sound hit his ears in the piercing tune of 'Mary had a Little Lamb'.

Mustang opened his door, locking it, before pulling it close behind him. He made his way down the old fashioned medal stairway, sliding his hands on the railing in familiarity, and jumped off the bottom step, turning to his right to confront the source of the honking.

A stylish black car was parked by the sidewalk and a flustered Meas Hughes fought an eager Edward Elric for the horn, Hughes restraining Ed with one hand against his chest, pushing him away as Fullmetal's arms faired and reached, a slight blush from overexertion on his cheeks and nose. Muffled shouts carried to him and Roy resisted the urge to slap his hand against his face.

Roy opened the passenger's door and grabbed the animated teenager by the collar of his long red cloak, pulling him away from the wide eyed Hughes.

"What is going on here?" He said in his unusually deep voice.

"Thank God!" Meas shouted, still cringing into the driver's seat, kicking his leg occasionally as if unused to the empty space next to him. "Look at what he did! He made my car into a _Clown_ Car!" an outraged Hughes shouted, pointing to the horn on the steering wheel. The wheel was transmuted into three rubber balloon-like horns, each of them sticking obscenely from the steering wheel's round center. Mustang's eye twitched "He did it just so he could play 'Mary had a Little Lamb'!"

Roy chuckled darkly, taking the runty Edward Elric out of the car and looking him into his eyes.

"Car. Normal. Now."

Edward grumbled inaudibly as Mustang let go of his collar and climbed back into the sleek car, clapping his hands together and slapping them onto the steering wheel.

A flash of white light burst from the tinted black windows and Edward crawled out of the car, looking up at Roy with a familiar scowl on his face.

Roy Mustang smirked.

"Now get in the back." He said, pushing Ed towards the rear with measurable force. The Fullmetal Alchemist opened the door and slid in just as Roy did, just in time for him to catch the murmured sentence:

"Why do I get the back?"

Mustang glanced back at him, sneering.

"Because only big kids get the front,"

"ARE YOU CALLING ME LITTLE?" An angered Fullmetal screeched.

Mustang laughed, and muttered, while rubbing his head as a headache started on, "Maybe,"

A huff came from behind, and he watched in the rearview mirror as Edward crossed his arms and slumped into his seat.

"It was my idea, so why can't I sit up front?"

Roy narrowed his eyes.

"And it's your fault that I am going, so shut it."

Edward Elric shut up.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Roy Mustang could not believe he had been talked into it; he simply couldn't fathom the sight that lay in his vision and would probably haunt him forever. He leaned leisurely against the grey gate, rubbing his forehead, growing increasingly aggravated at the 'Party' he had been forced to participate in (all thanks to a certain stern lieutenant and a gun barrel thrust into his face)

"So tell me Fullmetal," He started, wanting nothing other than to pull on his gloves and snap his fingers at the abomination before him, "For your 18th birthday, why the hell did you choose to go to an _Amusement Park_?"

Edward, his back to Roy, placed his hands on his hips and glanced back at him through his peripheral vision.

"Because I enjoy Amusement Parks, and today whatever I say goes." He retorted, spinning around in a swirl, to face Roy fully. He leaned in on his toes and pointed a gloved finger at the Flame Alchemist.

"And you are not going to ruin it with your sour mood swings; I thought girls were only supposed to PMS." He accused raising one golden eyebrow, as if to say 'I challenge you to a duel!".

Mustang pulled his white gloves from his back pocket and began to pull them on, wanting no more than to scare the Fullmetal Alchemist until he was finally able to think appropriately, with some common sense in that head of his. The familiar 'click' sent him spinning around, only to face with the barrel of Hawkeye's gun. Roy gulped, quickly hiding his gloves behind his back while he stuffed them into his pocket.

"Well hello there Hawkeye," He nodded nervously to the stern faced woman, "Hawkeye's gun." He finished, staring pointedly at the sweat-worthy metal monster that was pointed in between his eyes. The gun lowered and his blonde lieutenant, hair twisted into a trademark bun, nodded in acknowledgement and replied, "Sir, I do not appreciate you bulling on Edward, _especially_ on his birthday, and wish to ask if you would refrain from such activities."

_Like he had a choice_, Roy thought quickly nodding his head vigorously hoping to quell her need for his blood. She turned away, seemingly pleased with his immediate reply and confronted Fullmetal, smiling warmly at the small boy, before replacing her gun back into its nearly indistinguishable hip holster, which was hidden under her light blue blouse. Covering the upper half of her legs was a knee length purple skirt that rustled lightly in the warm summer, revealing her elegant calves. She was talking with Edward, and appeared to be engrossed in the conversation.

Roy shivered, remembering with melancholic regret how this beautiful young woman would never be his, never in the least. As if on cue, his left hand man, Jean Havoc walked up behind Riza Hawkeye, wrapping his arms around her waist and grinning sheepishly up at her as he rested his head onto her neck. His heart jumped to his throat, and he swallowed it down painfully, feeling self-disgust at the envious feelings that crept into his system.

He took a deep breath and turned back to the entrance, watching for the rest of his subordinates and friends to show up for Edward Elric's birthday.

Roy was just twitching by the time Haymans Breda showed up at the entrance, showing the brown haired girl his Free Entrance wrist ban, before striding towards them purposefully. He was clad in a large brown shirt which was tucked into his blue ripped jeans. He was rather large in the waist, cherishing it greatly, and had red hair and tanned skin. He grinned impishly at his superior officer, slapping his hand on his shoulder causing Roy to stumble forward. He glared at the big boned man, straightening up and tugging his collar back into an appropriate position before greeting socially, "Good afternoon Breda,"

Haymans grinned back at him, looking past him and shouting out a casual hello to Jean, Riza and the source of the gathering, Edward.

Mustang grumbled stubbornly, refusing to have any relative enjoyment at this _Torture Park_. A timid "Hello General," rang to him and he turned, to find a shy Kain Fuery wringing his hands nervously together before pushing up his glasses up his nose. Fuery was small, and young, with an innocence that seemed to remain with him despite the horrors he had seen. He had black hair that stuck up in different directions and small black eyes behind a set of midnight glasses. Behind him was Vato Falman, standing tall and lean in a grey sweater and dark blue jeans. He raised his hand in salutation.

A commotion started behind him and he noticed a tall golden brown haired man walking towards them, his arm wrapped around a pretty blonde girl.

"Brother!" The man said, picking up his pace to meet the golden headed teenager. The blondes face lit immensely, and Roy, being a little slow, came to conclusion that the man walking towards them was Edward Elric's younger brother, Alphonse Elric. It was still a bit strange to see the sixteen year old boy in flesh instead of the suite of armor he inhabited for nearly six years.

Edwards's arms wrapped around Al's waist and Roy was surprised to see that Al was at least a head taller than the older boy.

"I've missed you Al!" Edward said in a boisterous tone. The younger of the two wrapped his arms around the smaller and smiled, closing his eyes in a personally bliss and sighing loudly, leaning into the older brother's touch.

"I missed you too Brother!"

Roy rolled his eyes to hid the strange warmth he felt from that picture, then, clapping his hands together impatiently and rubbing them in the most disturbing manner, walked up to the embracing brothers and patted them both on the back.

"I just love this brotherly love!" He exclaimed, shaking his head in a facetious way, causing the couple to brake up and stare at the strangely affectionate man. Edward was the first to pull away, seeming to be uncomfortable under the Flame Alchemist touch. Of course, he didn't realize his mistake, and Roy, encouraged by the discomfort that seeped out from the runty teenager, slumped against him and draped his arm across his shoulders, smiling innocently down at Ed. Edward's face contorted, and he carefully pushed forward, trying to shake the persistent sadist. The man simply smirked and walked up with the kid.

Sighing Edward Elric, turned and tried to ignore Roy Mustangs annoying touch. Roy looked at the boy.

Edward Elric had long golden hair, braided skillfully; it met the bottom of his shoulder blades, longer than the last time Roy had took his time to look at it. He had a soft feminine face with big golden eyes that held ferocity and passion. He had long lashes that were quiet noticeable, seeing that they were, strangely, a darker tawny color, causing his eyes to jump out. His bangs were parted in the middle, cradling his face fondly. A stubborn piece of hair stuck up at the part in his hair, and Roy had his suspicions that he intentionally pasted it that way to appear taller. He wore tight black leather pants, with his Alchemist watch's chain sticking from his hip to his pocket; like Roy's, and an unusual stripped shirt that was black and hot pink. Roy wondered what possessed him to dress so anomalously.

He was strong and determined, stubborn and loyal, never turning his back on someone who was in need. He was more than a little egotistical, smirking at his achievements and sticking his successes in the faces of others for nothing other than to prove them wrong. Edward did not tolerate harassment, and hated it when people underestimated him. But he had a good heart and was willing to sacrifice his life for the things he believed in.

And Roy had to respect that.

"Shall we go to the Roller Coaster first?" Havoc asked and Mustang snapped back into focus, realizing that Fullmetal was now ahead of him. An eager nod from Edward sent the group scurrying towards the monstrous structure, an audible groan coming from him as he was pulled along, mostly by a hyperactive Hughes, talking about his 'adorable little princess' and his 'gorgeous queen'. Roy ground his teeth and followed the group as they traveled to the front of the line, cutting the rest. He held his arm out towards the attendant, flashing his red Free Entrance wristband, sympathizing with her bored look and slumped posture.

He watched as Edward climbed into the front seat, dumbly watching as people filed in.

"Come on Roy, we're going to leave without you!" Havoc called out, sitting down next to Riza and wrapping his arm around her lovingly, she leaned willingly into his touch, smiling heartedly at her boyfriend. Roy grumbled as he slipped in the front seat with Fullmetal, the last available seat. He shouldn't have stood there like an idiot and should have snatched a seat the farthest away from Ed.

Edward narrowed his eyes, and he scowled, turned away, and seemed to be lost in thought. With a strange gut wrenching lurch the machine started to move forward, turning around a bend slowly. Ed's face lit up and he held onto the confining bars that served as seatbelts with a blissful twinkle in his eyes. As much as Roy hated to admit it, he had never been to an Amusement Park, let alone a Roller Coaster. He also, despite his immediate objection, was afraid of heights, and Mustangs stomach clenched as the coaster let out an earsplitting screech that indicated they were on the track. The machine continued upward, letting out a groan. Roy's palms became sticky as in reached the top, and he gripped the bar with such force he was almost certain that he would break it.

Then they reached the top.

The coaster spun into action; pushing forward with intensity he wasn't sure possible. Roy's stomach clenched and dropped as his heart suddenly became lodged in his throat. The vehicle's momentum and mass pushed it downward faster and Roy let out a terrified yelp as it lurched to the side, spinning around in a loop before continuing towards the ground. He was suddenly pulled upward, going up until he realized they were in a loop. He screamed shortly as they were thrown to the side and he smashed unintentionally into Edward. They turned the other way and Ed was abruptly squishing him, causing the metal walls to grind into his ribs painfully.

Then in was over.

He let out a breath and put his hand to his heart, trying to stop it from jumping out of his chest. Roy lumbered out, breathing hard and wide eyed. He was fairly certain he was going to have a heart attack, or something relatively dangerous that involved his heart and stomach.

"That. Was. Awesome!" A pleased voice declared, and Roy found himself looking into a very happy Edward Elric's face. Everyone quickly nodded in agreement, and he finally comprehended what was now obvious.

No one could save him now.

XXXXXXXXX

"Come on, please! You're the only one left!"

Roy's eye twitched and he clenched his fists in irritation, wished to kill the boy in front of him, begging, something Roy did not expect Ed to _ever_ do. And for _this_ he did?

"No." He answered, keeping his arms at his side incase he accidentally caused the Fullmetal Alchemist's death.

"Come on Mustang! Pleeeeeease?"

Strangely enchanted by the way he groveled; he muttered a single unhappy "Yes" and walked towards the nearly abandoned Roller Coaster, Edward pulling him towards it by his wrist. Roy scowled into the back of his torturer, irrationally hoping, with his luck, that someone would jump out and kill him.

They slid into the front seat yet again, and Mustang glanced back at the only other person who was crazy enough to allow the monster to torture them. He was small, his face shrouded in a black shadow from the hood of the dark blue Sweatshirt, which was pulled up discretely. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his head bent as if in prayer. Roy's eyes narrowed in suspicion, an unsettled feeling poking around in his gut. He then turned back to the front, secretly glancing at the stranger through the corner of his eyes.

The ride then started and Roy ground his teeth in tension, not liking the dark clouds that had apprehensively gathered over the Fair grounds. As the first slope passed he thanked the heavens that he had not screamed, considering the fact that everyone had joked about it, just to irritate him.

Then it lurched to the side.

The feeling of a hand made him turn abruptly, and he flinched suddenly at the sight of a very realistic Raven mask, small red ruby eyes glinting maliciously in the gloomy light. The Raven Masked Stranger lurched forward, one hand wrapping around Mustangs neck, a sharp blade jutting from the ripped fabric, metal glimmering, pinning him against his seat, and the other hand slipping into his pocket, snapping the chain of his Alchemist Watch and pulling out his leather wallet. The Stranger then slipped away, nicking Roy's chin with the Automail dagger, jumping from the machine as they fell downward towards the ground.

Roy pulled free of the metal restrainer, getting ready to chase after the culprit, when the coaster unexpectedly heaved upward, twisting in the air.

"Mustang!"

The shrill voice screamed, and Roy watched as Edward reached out, grabbing onto the Flame Alchemist arm in desperation. The Roller Coaster looped malevolently, and Mustang felt as he fell slightly downward before jerking to a stop. A loud gasp and scream of pain caught his attention and he looked up to see the Fullmetal Alchemist staring down at him, a grimace of pain on his young face. His left hand gripped the metal seatbelt that had once kept them from falling out and his right gripped Roy's hard, nearly breaking Roy's fingers with it's strength. Ed's feet dangled from the cart and then it was over, and they were thrown back into their seat, Mustang crushing Edward with sheer muscle mass.

The Roller Coaster screeched to a stop, throwing Roy and Ed out of their seats and onto the track. They fell from the open holes in the track to the ground below, which just happened to be only a few yards; their luck saving them from a tremendous fall and a painful death. Roy's breath came out and he gasped, eyes open with horror. Then he turned to the side and threw up, hacking up any food he consumed that day. After that he spit out the bile from his mouth and turned to his companion, frightened for him. The young Alchemist was busy puking his guts up, blood and vomit mixing. He wiped his mouth, cradling his Automail arm as if it pained him. Then he heaved again, a number of spasms taking over his body before he hurled again, this time more blood than anything. The strong metallic smell of gore filled the air, and Roy gagged as the vile smell of vomit reached his nostrils.

"Sir! Where are you? Edward? Edward! Where are you two?" Hawkeye called frantically. Her figure coming into view and he tried weakly to call out, but instead groaned and began to gag again, clutching his empty stomach in pain.

"Oh my god! Over here, they're over here!" She called out to the others, jogging over swiftly. She knelt in front of him, subtly avoiding the mess he left, and took his face into her hands, turning it side by side, working his jaw to see if it were broken. He made a weak sound of protest, and pointed over to Fullmetal, looking up at her to see if she got the message. Her lips were in a tight thin line, but she nodded and stood up, walking over to him and crouching before him.

Mustang's gut clenched as he say the extent of Edward's injuries. His Automail arm was bleeding at the port, blood quickly dripping to the ground in a puddle, shining as the grim light bounced of it. His right cheekbone was swollen, turning a grotesque black and green, his eye swelling shut. Roy watched as Riza forced Ed's shirt up, surprised to see his shake his head profusely, despite the immense pain he must have been in.

"Damn," He said, clutching his stomach and gasping despite the intense minutes that had passed.

"Boss, god you look like crap! What the hell happened?" A familiar voice remarked, and Havoc appeared a few seconds later, getting on his knees at the side of him and pulling his hand away from his stomach, sliding it over Jeans shoulders, wrapping his hand around Roy's waist and rising up.

The sound of puking caused his to look at Ed, in time to see him vomit a pile of blood as Riza tried to get him onto his feet. A loud moan followed and Mustang winced, feeling guilty and worried for the runty teenager's health. The rest came running towards them, carrying small hand weapons, paramedics following after them.

Roy felt dead as he was placed in the ambulance, right next to a reluctant Edward Elric, his breath was hoarse and his chest hurt, he barely made a protest as the Paramedic placed an oxygen mask onto his face.

One thing he knew for sure was that he was never going to an Amusement Park _again_.


	2. Pride VS Logic

"Well it doesn't seem like there is anything wrong with you besides the bruising on your chest. Your breathing won't be the same for a while considering the fact that you damaged your lungs in some way. The cut on your neck will need some stitches, but other than that you were better off than your friend"

Roy's head snapped up, sending a dull ach through his throat, his pulse beating madly beneath the bandage. He twirled his thumbs restlessly, and then asked hesitantly, "Will-will he be okay? What's wrong with him?" The doctor sighed, turning away from him, tapping a pen against his clip board in an irritating manner.

"He's fine. He has some serious damage to his stomach, and a blood vessel burst in his throat, causing some of the bleeding, but most of it was because of a wound in his stomach and some internal inflammation in his esophagus. That Automail arm he has, well, he ripped his skin around the port pretty severely. We have him on an IV, considering anything he ate he would just throw back up. Right now he's resting, I would be too, and so should you!"

Roy looked away, feeling increasingly guilty and faint. The doctor was right, he was exhausted.

Roy glanced at the closed hospital room door, scratching his wrist irritably and grumbling under his breathe. He wanted nothing other than to go over and apologize to the boy, to make it up to him. It had been his birthday, and would have gone perfectly had Roy been more precautious. Now Edwards eighteenth birthday, his first adult year, would be ruined with images of blood, vomit and Ravens; killer Ravens. Roy certainly couldn't get it out of _his_ head.

Besides that Roy felt the urge to go and investigate. To find out what the stranger was after and why they had stolen Mustang's watch and wallet. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with the Attackers face haunting his dreams, screaming at him through a black beak, dripping dark red blood.

Mustang groaned and dropped his face into his hands. How the hell was he supposes to explain this to his superiors? _Oh my, I am so sorry Your Excellency, but this bird faced fiend jumped out of nowhere and stole my watch and wallet. You have to believe me! I am Roy Mustang and not a shape shifting gender-confused palm tree making futile excuses! _That would go _so_ well.

No, Roy was fairly certain he would end up in an Insane Asylum.

He looked up at the doctor; Dr. Johnly maybe, and pouted, wanting to get out into fresh air and breath the anesthetic smell from his nose. He wanted to go home and sit in front of his fireplace, mesmerized by the red and orange flames which danced to no rhythm in particular. Roy swallowed painfully.

And he really wanted some Liquor. Hard Liquor.

Roy ran a shaky hand through his black hair, gripping it and gritting his teeth together in an itchy way, his eyes snapped shut and he took deep painful breaths, remembering what his Shrink had said. As soon as he felt calm again he looked up at Dr. Johnly through his splayed fingers, feeling remorseful and disgusted with himself.

"Can I go home now?" He mumbled pathetically, wanting to appear big eyed and innocent. The doctor simply pushed his large glasses to the top of his nose and said stoically, "First you need stitches"

Roy groaned.

XXXXXXXXXX

Edward chocked, coughing loudly and making a hopeless attempt to move his arms. His eyes fluttered open and he squinted against the harsh white light that pushed past his eyelids in blotches of red. Finally managing to move, he pushed up his arms, feeling fatigued from the effort, and held them up, blocking out the artificial brilliance with his hands.

"You're awake Sister?" Fullmetal flinched, turning her head towards the voice, eyes blinking rapidly.

Yes, _her_. Edward Elric was, in fact, female. She was stubborn about keeping it secret, considering she originally was male before he attempted to bring back his Mother, to see her smile and cry, to see her live. If anyone found out about her gender they would have known the forbidden things that she had committed, and how she unwillingly forced those sins, which should have been hers, onto her brother, rendering him of feeling and warmth, sticking him into a suit of armor. She could have told Mustang and everyone who knew her horrible secret, but she had a habit of discreetness, she knew even a small slip could end her life.

She had a tight white bandage wrapped around her chest, and wore baggy clothes, content with the feminine look that she held despite her efforts. Her period was the hardest to hide, taking up the routine of stuffing tampons into her boots or into the small, inside coat pocket she alchemized, specifically for that reason. Her gloves were not just to hide the prosthetic right arm, but also to hide the elegant slenderness of her fingers. Her hair was long, something she loved and had adopted after the accident which caused her change in sex. Edward wouldn't let go of her name, keeping it close because it covered her identity and reminded her of her Mom, who gifted him (her) with such.

Edward smiled as her little brother reached out and helped her sit up, placing a large, over stuffed pillow against her back, cushioning her. She coughed realizing that there was a plastic covering on her mouth. A breathing mask.

"Hey Al," She croaked, nodding once when he motioned to the glass of water on the nightstand beside her bed. He pulled off the mask softly, putting the small bendy straw into her mouth. She drank down the liquid greedily small gulping sounds coming from her parched throat. Alphonse pulled the cup away and she whimpered, reaching out weakly like a puppy to a bone. Al chuckled, placing it back onto the stand, looking at her warmly.

"The Doc said that you could have some water, but that you might throw it back up in you have too much, but sense you practically _ate_ the cup we'll have to see if he's right."

Ed stuck out her tongue, not pleased with puking her guts up yet again.

She looked up at her brother, a worried expression on her soft face.

"Does," She started biting down hard on her bottom lip she blinked rapidly as if to keep from crying, then continued, "Does Riza know?"

Alphonse looked down, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.

"She- she suspected. The fact that you wouldn't let her-her um, you know, well, it just confirmed her suspicions."

Ed nodded and breathed in harshly, placing her hand to her chest when it started to throb uncomfortably. She sucked in another breath, having a hard time with such a simple task. Al quickly placed the mask over her face to regulate her hard breathing, a face of deep concern on his face.

Gradually her heartbeat evened out and her breathing became soft and even, a sleepy face upon the patient. Alphonse sighed, pulled the lumpy pillow slowly out from under her and laid the sleeping teenager down on the hard hospital bed, replacing the large cushier with a smaller sleeping pillow, smiling fondly at his older sibling.

He leaned forward, wiped stray hairs away from her sticky face, her soft breathing a lullaby to his new ears.

XXXXXXXXXX

Roy strode out of the Medical Center, coat resting on his shoulder, a scowl of deep concentration on his face. His black sneakers made a lulling smack as he walked down the sidewalk, feeling the strong wind pull at his hair and play around his dark clothes. The trees shed their leaves in his path and they swirled lethargically, soft whispers to a setting sun. He sighed; he would never understand the motivation, to steal his wallet and watch. Never. And it stung him, hurt his pride in a way other things did not.

He turned a corner, watching as the shadows danced about his feet and ran across the walls.

It just didn't make sense! He'd never heard of any masked villains, anything that indicated it was fluke. But there was no indication that if _wasn't_ a fluke.

And that just left him back where he started, confused and wary, angry and irritable.

Roy frowned up at the clouds, nearly biting his tongue off as a roll of thunder sequenced from the skies belly, and lightning flitted across the sky, blinding Roy.

And then it began to rain.

It wasn't something Mustang felt at first, just a few benign rumbles and the howling of the wind brushing through the park trees. The first drop hit his nose, surprising him. He reached up, a touched the perfectly balanced drop, looking up to the sky in agitation. His fist clenched as the sky started to pour, releasing years of anger and restless energy. Roy pulled his nearly soaked jacket from his shoulder and threw it over his head, trying to keep himself dry, even if it meant leaving himself vulnerable. He started to run.

God, Roy hated the rain. The feeling of it as it crawled down his skin and choked out his flames, burning out his inner fire, as it soaked his clothes with the tears of heaven, resting the world upon his shoulders, he just despised it. He wiped it out of his eyes, pushing his hair back, tired of seeing through strands of black.

Roy sighed a breathe of relief as he saw his house, pale and modest; a white fence surrounded the area, a cobblestone path leading to his apartment through a yard of green grass.

Then he was pushed forward, his momentum causing him to skid across the wet pavement. He rolled precariously, landing harshly on his bruised chest, damaging it further. Someone's knee pressed hard into his back, pinning him to the ground emotionlessly, and one of his arms was pulled upward, threatening to pop out of its socket. As a flash of bright, burning pain flashed down his body, Roy cried out, his other hand clawing at the ground in pain, unable to use it for anything useful. A growl rumbled in his chest, despite the serious pain he was in, as the attacker pushed his face against the cold shimmering ground, knocking his nose against the pavement until he felt blood trickle down brutishly, chocking him as it flooded down his throat.

Finally, spitting blood from his mouth, he glared up at the Attacker through cold hard eyes, and said, with as much venom as he could muster, "If you're going to kill me then get on with it, I don't want you wasting my time for something as pathetic as the few bills I carry in my pocket."

A sinister laugh carried back to him, and he watched as his Assaulter leaned in close, giving him a good view of his face. He was masked, the face of a Starling covering his face in the most disturbing way, yellow eyes narrowed in bloodlust.

"You're strong, I respect that, all I want to know is one thing," he paused dramatically, leaning down further until he was breathing into his ear, sending shivers down Roy's spine and then he whispered, "Where is the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

At first Roy laid there, stunned, eyes wide, a perplexed expression on his face, then, he laughed. It was quiet, ominous and nasty, a threatening tone to it, then it took an abrupt turn, turning louder, and crazy, sounding much like a psychotic, half dead man would do before he died. It carried through the Fiends bones, taking residence in between his ribs, before growing until he shook and his skin crawled.

It died there, a mean sigh following after it.

"You attacked me, to ask me where the _Fullmetal Alchemist_, is?"

He turned his head to the side, looking up at him through amused and foreboding eyes, smiling up at his Assaulter. His eyes narrowed and suddenly held a malicious intent; his smile twisted immorally, teeth showing.

"Have you no respect?"

Roy wrenched from the man's grasp, stifling a gasp as he purposefully popped his arm out to get away. The Masked Stranger pushed himself backward as Mustangs fist came forward, nearly breaking his nose and mask, grazing his cheek and ripping out feathers. They fluttered to the ground, remorseful, weighed down by the heavy rain that made Roy angrier than he already was, making him see in colors of red.

He skidded of bare wrapped feet, scraping them against the wet roadway. He breathed in heavily, clutching the side of his face as he realized just how much he underestimated this man. He leaned forward taking a defensive posture as Roy quickly popped his arm back into place, a hard grimace on his face. He clenched his jaw as light burst between his eyes and jolts of electricity ran up his arm and through his neck. He rolled his shoulder stiffly, a small pained smile on his face.

"Just- just who are you?" He said with a voice of bewilderment and fear. No normal person would be able to withstand the pain of a dislocated arm, much less the emotional trauma of someone such as himself attacking and threatening them. He was a military man; that much he could tell from the way he held himself and the fierce iciness behind his eyes.

Roy laughed at the man, fisting his left arm roughly and grinning malevolently.

"My name is Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist," He grinned maliciously, "Now, your worst nightmare."

Then he shot forward, his clenched fist shooting out first, making contact with the intruders face, breaking the mask with a loud, spine tingling 'Crack'! It fell away in pieces falling to the ground unceremoniously and Roy took that moment to bring his right leg up and swing it around, locking his ankle into a point, round house kicking him square in the chest, causing the man to fall to his knees, as if in prayer. A string of saliva and blood trailed out of his mouth to his hideously red beard and he looked up at Mustang through shielded bright green eyes. Roy lifted his foot and brought it down hard to his back, between his shoulder blades, meeting an alarming scrunch, pinning him to the ground vengefully, a pitiless sneer clear on his face.

"I never thought I would be beaten, and by a man half my age," Roy's Attacker huffed, "But a man you are, and I would have no other," He paused, a thoughtful expression on his weathered face, "Though, I am afraid I will have to depart with you, so farewell, Flame With A Heart Of Ice, goodbye." And with that he wrenched his arm out from under him, a crystal dagger slipping out from his sleeve into the palm of his hand. Roy jumped back sharply, hissing under his breath, suspicions running deep. Then he turned the glinting black knife towards himself and plunged it deep into his throat, promptly drowning in his own blood.

Roy's face contorted, turning away in disgust as he fell limp and lifeless to the blood coated ground, wide eyes growing grey and glazed, sinking in slightly, already beginning to decompose. Mustang sighed, pulling out the small black cell in his breast pocket, pressing the number in with experienced fingers, scowling as he wiped the rain from his eyes and rubbed his aching shoulder.

"Hawkeye,"

Roy breath came out, and he turned his back to the dead man now behind him.

"Hey, its Roy, can you come to..." He trailed off sprinting off towards the road sign on the corner of the street, "NW Rosewood by the park,"

"May I ask what is going on?"

"No Lieutenant, you'll see, just bring Maes and a weapon, we can't be too careful,"

A small humorless chuckle came through the phone, and her voice followed shortly after.

"Do I ever forget? Don't worry; we'll be there in five minutes Sir."

At the sound of the dial tone Roy snapped his phone shut with a snap, and leisurely strode towards the deceased person, crouching down with a grunt and turning him towards the grey sky, wincing as his eyes stared up at the rain filled clouds with a strange sort of peace, which could only be attained with death.

He suddenly felt very envious of this carefree man.

Roy rubbed his forehead, standing up swiftly and walking the short distance to the sidewalk, gutters flooded with leaves and water. His sneakers splashed the rain water around as he sat down briskly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in a distressed manner.

Two times, two times in one day he had nearly lost his life, and only to know where the person he despised most was at, where they lived.

And it very much hurt his pride.

As soon as the distinguishable sound of engines came into his hearing he got up, stretching his sore tender muscles, groaning as his joints popped ominously. A frowned found its way to his face as Riza pulled a strangely eager Maes towards Roy who was now crouching down to the body, scowling at it.

Hawkeye's face contorted at the grotesque wound that had clearly killed the man, and looked down in her superior officers clouded eyes, questioning bluntly, devoid of any emotion, "Did you kill him Roy?"

Roy looked up at her, clearly nauseated at that cold inquiry, standing up to full height so he wouldn't further damage his vulnerable muscles which groaned apprehensively as he stretched in one full body motion.

"That's just a sick way to kill someone, don't you think?" Mustang shook his head, his icy eyes glaring down at the dead man laid unceremoniously on the cold, wet ground drops of rain running down his pale, lifeless body, "No, I didn't do that, he did it, to himself." Riza's eyes widened, clearly not expecting anything relatively close to that, and it took a lot to startle Riza Hawkeye. Then she glowered at something in the distance, her brow furrowed and motioned Maes forward with the wave of her hand. He slumped over, carrying a black fabric and laying it over the body, covering those haunting grey green eyes, which still reminded him of a Starlings eyes despite the obvious difference in color.

Roy turned away yet again as his friends began calling over military personnel, requesting a small medical team as well when Roy simply shrugged when they asked if he were injured.

He looked to the sky and, for nearly the first time in his life, felt something spark inside him.

Something that felt like fear.

Fear for someone other than himself.

XXXXXXXXXX

Edward sighed blearily, scratching at the irritatingly white sheets nervously, biting on her flesh knuckles to relieve herself of the ever present boredom which smothered her, making Ed want to strangle herself with the thin, useless bed sheets than restrained her from any normal movement. She sighed, for what seemed for the millionth time, and glanced at the clock on the wall, ticking softly in rhythm.

3:30 in the morning.

It was a very vexing thought that she had been up for nearly two hours, counting the unsanitary brown, water spots which covered the ceiling. She turned to her brother and her friend, Alphonse and Winry, recently committed to each other, much to Edwards secret joy. Both folded up together in the lumpy hospital chair that was just big enough for the both of them, sleeping silently, Winry's head resting against Al's chest trustingly, and a small secret smile on her lips, whispering soft mysteries so that only Edward could hear them.

But how in God's name would she survive the night?

Ed plopped back down onto her pillow, crossing her arms and pouting at nothing in particular.

Edward thought back, closing her eyes into slits and breathing out loudly. The moment were she had screamed his name had been surreal, when the cart that carrying them flipped and she was utterly certain that they would both plummet to their death, leaving only two crumpled heaps on the ground, insignificant to the world. The moment when she saw the fear in her eyes reflected in his, shining through in those few intense minutes.

Of course, being Edward Elric, she was the one stuck in the hospital bed, Roy probably prancing off to some despondent virgin's house to bed her, and to leave. Or maybe it was a male virgin, Roy didn't exactly ponder over his nightly activities, even if the sometimes involved those of the same gender. To him, sex was sex, and sex brought about pleasure. Those flirtatious women or men who drooled over him were simply play things, there to keep him occupied, to keep those stifling memories from drowning him.

Anyone who actually knew the real Roy Mustang would vouch for it.

Edward turned onto her side, hissing as her Automail wound throbbed uncontrollably.

Roy was such an idiot. Keeping things to him self, seeming to think he could hold the world upon his shoulders should anyone offer.

Edward closed her eyes, pulling subtly at the lose thread ends of her pillow, growing warmer with every tug.

She took a deep breathe, and fell into a restless sleep, turning and whimpering to the thunder and lightning that fought outside her hospital room window.

The sky swelled.


	3. When the Bacon Burns

Roy groaned, stretching out his sore muscles on his back, favoring his right arm, which now throbbed, the adrenaline gone from his system, bring about pain once again. He scowled irritably out his right bedroom window, his brow furrowing as the icy 'plunk' of hail bounced against his window, hitting his roof eagerly, keeping him from some desperately needed sleep.

Roy crossed his good arm across his chest and pouted, turning his gaze back to the sling he had been forced to wear, much to his objection, and jut out his bottom lip in frustration, taking on a sweet, stubborn puppy dog look that would have absolutely ruin his stoic façade if he were in the presence of his superiors. He made a sound at the back of his throat, rubbing his chest where it ached, and breathed in harshly, hurting himself in the process.

He very much wanted to kill someone right then.

He slouched into the plush, white pillows which lay under his back, and stared at the small radio on the other side of the room, blaring profoundly, irking to the Generals tired ears.

But it was so far away!

Roy sighed, running his hand across his knee where he had banged it brutally against the pavement, giving him a bruised bone and a fowl attitude, as well as the inability to walk without jolts of pain and discomfort pushing up his leg. As if he needed anymore bad luck.

And so that was the reason Maes Hughes was at his house.

"You won't believe how cute she has been lately! It's simply adorable, she keeps claiming she's too old for something, but does in anyway! And the pout on her is simply _so_ lovable! Even you would just melt into a puddle of lovely dovey goodness!"

Roy's eyes narrowed and he turned towards his best friend, jaw clenched, and a vein popping obscenely from the side of his head. He cared for his friend's well being greatly, always choosing to stick by Hughes side despite the consequences. But right then was not one of those times.

"Hughes, I am always so _thrilled _to hear about your daughter, but do you have to speak of her _now_, when I am so close to _throwing_ myself at you and _forcing_ you out the _window_ with a _catapult_?"

Maes just simply looked offended and continued straightening up his room, picking up the soaked outfit he had worn at the Fullmetal Alchemist disastrous birthday party. Roy turned his head away in silent shame, furrowing his brow until Maes noticed his friend's sour expression. He sighed and discarded the outfit into a white basket before sitting down beside Mustang. He leaned back on the palm of his hands and looked up at the ceiling, watching as the fan turned slowly in a calming manner.

"What's bothering you Roy?"

Roy sighed, Hughes always knew something was bothering him, whether he told Maes or not. It was a simple, instinctive nagging feeling that grew in his mind until he knew something was bothering Roy. The small twitch of his left eyebrow, the nervous scratching he always did when he felt uneasy or irritated, and the way he ran his hands through his hair every so often gave away Roy's apprehensive state. Not very many people had the ability to read Mustang so fluently, and the fact that he was with one at the time did nothing to help his self-loathing.

So he pushed his emotions behind a mask that was unbreakable and looked Maes in the eye, replying with false boredom, "I'm fine, just tired." And that was true. Maes sat there for a few minutes and Roy watched as his eyes flickered from one eye to the other, trying to see through his emotionless facial features. He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, giving up on understanding Mustangs hard, cold eyes. Roy was glad of this, letting a gentle triumphant smile spread on his lips. But it also hurt, knowing that his best friend would be so fooled by his mask and give up so easily. He nudged that feeling away softy, shaking himself so to not get caught up in his complicated emotions.

Hughes turned off the radio and an alarming silence spread through the room, twisting in the air, creating a buzzing sound in his ears as he pulled the covers up to his neck with one hand, scooting awkwardly down into a laying position.

"Good night, Roy,"

"'Night, Maes."

As Hughes snapped off the lights Roy knew that it would be a sleepless night, with only his thoughts so accompany him. He growled softly, glaring at the black blobs which had once been his furniture and tried to turn onto his side, only so stifle a yelp as his arm throbbed violently. He huffed and pulled himself up with one arm, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up, ignoring the fierce shivers that ran up and down his leg. He grabbed the crutches on his night stand, letting them take his weight as he moved swiftly on one leg towards the window.

He suddenly felt bad for his selfish pitying. Fullmetal probably felt this pain nearly every moment of his life. If not physically, then mentally, in the piercing memories that most likely swallowed Edward up until there was nothing but a pinpoint of light at the end, a hopeless wish that he could forget everything. Roy knew what it felt like; in his dreams there was nothing but memories, tangled dangerously into a malevolent concoction.

Roy grimaced, scratching the back of his head as he looked up into the sky. It was still dark, and the stars faded slightly as a miniscule sliver of light rose up out of the horizon, alerting any early risers. He pressed his face against the window, relishing in the coolness of the glass. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let one of the crutches fall to the floor. It made a loud clatter, slicing through the peaceful silence.

It was hard to imagine that Ed had ever been the rough teenager he knew from his twenties. He had grown in silence, an assassin amongst the boisterous, arrogant military men and women. He had pulled from his stubbornness a deep intelligence that surpassed any alchemist. He knew more than just arrays and math, he was street smart, and could comprehend the immense importance of kindness. He understood alchemy, lived within it. It was different to learn it and know it, but to be able to take an array and break it down with witty words and chalk was ingenious.

He knew something the rest of them could barely fathom. Yes, Roy was an alchemist, a well known one at that, but Ed saw alchemy almost as if it were a part of him, or another being; a smart and worthy ally. Ed knew alchemy like Roy knew fire. Roy could calculate the heat of it by looking at it, could understand the gases that caused such a mysterious reaction by feeling the moisture and intensity of the air. At first it had been hard to grasp that fire, and Roy knew for a fact, that it was alive, a ravenous creature in search of those who could handle such a hunger and use it to their advantage.

Mustang was one of them, and it had earned him the title of Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishbal. But they had called him more than just that. The Ice General, Burner of Ishbal, Hellion, Worshiper of Hell, Hellfire Creator, Malefactor Mustang, Child Disintegrator, and Rabies, were some of many hurtful names the military and civilian persons alike, called him. Of course, almost all of them didn't know the raging guilt he felt just below the surface, bottled up and wrapped tight so that none escapes his desperate and depressed grasp. He would never be able to hold out until he was ninety, no one in the military usually did. At least, the people who sacrificed didn't, it all depended on how much you cared, and how badly people wanted you dead.

In all of his thirty two years he had never seen any soldiers not haunted by their violent past. They were all broken and utterly defeated on the inside, but they wore proud smiles, and chose to move on fast, only focused with what was ahead of them. Roy had once been a carefree man, full of joy and content with the blissful ignorance he attained from a normal life. Then he began learning fire alchemy. The simple fact the he was fascinated with fire just as it was drove him to learn how to control and conquer it. And after awhile he joined the military, determined to change the traditions the Fuhrer stubbornly clung to. Of course he had been drafted to Ishbal, forced with what seemed like a gun to his head, to blow up countless lives; age and sex didn't matter when it came down to murder. It was kill or be killed, so he did what was asked.

It hurt to know that he would probably never make amends for the horrible crimes that he committed. He wanted to change the world, rule it with a kindness and intelligence that the current Fuhrer didn't seem to understand. He would break it down slowly, and then mold it into something useable, merciful, and when it came to it, unforgiving. He would someday take control over this war ridden realm and smooth out all of its wounds and flaws.

Of course, it wasn't that easy, he couldn't just go up to the Fuhrer, and demand that he give up the throne, to go down willingly and become one of many civilians, struggling as the military held onto them with a bruising grip. No he would beat Roy until he was falling from his high horse, pride broken, defeated. He would pull Mustang to the ground along with him if he were to ever even succeed in kicking _His Excellency_ down.

Roy turned away from the window, irritated as a bright red light flashed in his eyes. He could still hear the ever present howl of the wind, pushing rain and sleet against his window in sheets. He rubbed his forehead, trying to rid himself of stress with his hands.

He wasn't alone in his quest to purify his war torn country, he had his team; Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, and Falman, they all wanted to help him. Even the Elric brothers participated in this at some degree, trying to make up for how much they owed him one accomplished mission at a time. Ed, however, had nearly forced Al to quit the military when he joined so long ago. Alphonse had pleaded and begged to stay by his side ever since he had gotten his body back. He had been fighting for an opinion in the matter the entire time, sticking stubbornly to his brother. Edward had been agitated, grappling for some sort of excuse to guilt Al into going back to their childhood home, Risembool. It was only one year after AlÆs arrival that Ed had acquired what he had wanted to attain. '_What about Winry? Don't you miss her? She doesn't need the extra stress, worrying about you!_' Al had been dumbfounded, stunned at his brothers quick and clever response to Alphonse's reluctance and he had been at a lost of words.

It was quiet obvious that Alphonse had been crushing after her for some time, and, to him, it mattered not that he was a year younger, for he replaced it with his adult maturity and kindness. Being in armor for most of his childhood had not rendered him of the ability to think pleasantly. And so he had resigned his watch and title honorably, retiring while he still lived in youth, returning back home to live with his infatuation and love. Alphonse was happy, and that made Edward happy, at least, that's what most people concluded.

That was mostly true, but anyone who had known him long enough would pledge against it. Edward was partially happy when Al was, because that was what he had struggled to gain, but Ed was haunted by his past when Alphonse had the gift of not. Sometimes, Edward would stop mid sentence and his eyes would glaze over as something dark twisted behind his eyes. He would smile after a moment, one that could even fool Hawkeye, and lie between his teeth that he was suddenly swept up in a thought. Who ever said that Ed wore his heart on his sleeve? For a while it had even deceive Roy, but he caught on quickly, relying on the darkness of his eyes and the downward twitch of his lip to tell whether Ed was lying to their faces.

Edward was still entangled in his past, wrapped up in guilt and memories until it was his present and his future. He would struggle to push forward, trying to escape the cold ruthless grasp of his history, only to be pulled back. Never once had he told anyone his troubles.

There was the subtle attraction that was always there though, dangerously low. It would make his chest tighten and his eyes widened as he realized just how beautiful Edward was. He had changed from a teenager, all hard lines and stubbornness, and smoothed out into something more feminine. He became slender, elegant, and lost some of the broadness of his shoulders. His legs became longer, much to his happiness, and his face leaner, lips fuller. His eyelashes were longer then before, and when he blinked they fanned his cheekbone supplely.

It was strange to watch as something entirely masculine overtook the role of something more soft and dainty, just the opposite of what was expected. Roy had reasoned with himself, it was logical to think that Fullmetal had lost weight, due to the fact that he was nearly always depressed right under the surface, but Mustang felt a nagging suspicion that Ed was hiding something. It was infuriating to know that something was wrong but to not know what. That was hypocritical though.

Roy sighed and bent over to pick up his crutch. He straightened up and placed it under his arm, letting it support his weight and he slowly made his way towards the doorway, stopping to check the time before closing the door behind him with little difficulty. He hesitated by the stairway, grimacing as he remembered the tremors which had run up and down his body when he had tried to walk on his own. Eventually, he took a deep breath and began his trek down the stairs.

Never had he felt so helpless as the sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip, and he licked his lips nervously as his crutches shook with him. As gently as he could he lowered himself down each step, clenching his teeth as rolls of nausea swept over him in waves, making him double over. He took deep breaths, clutching his chest as he felt the insatiable need to hurl. He snarled frailly, angered by his own weakness, and finally, with much coaxing and persuasion he reached the bottom step.

He sighed blissfully, swinging himself on one leg towards the kitchen. The clock read 5:31 so it had taken about twenty minutes to get down the stairs. He frowned and turned away from it, taking out his coffee pot and putting in the water, getting his cup from the cupboard. When it was ready he poured himself a small glass and took a tentative sip, wincing when it hit his empty stomach. The next couple of sips were forced.

He swallowed it slowly, ignoring the bitter taste it left in his mouth and leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly as the caffeinated drink settled comfortably in his stomach. He chuckled as his small gray kitten jumped up onto the countertop, rubbing her fuzzy head against RoyÆs bare arm as if demanding his attention.

"Hello Nina," Mustang said to his cat fondly.

The Elric brothers had found her on the street, shivering at the cold, skin stretched over her ribs in a grotesque way. She was huddled under a newspaper, ears flattened against the top of her head with her tail curled around her to preserve her body heat. She had looked at them with such sadness that even Edward had been forced to take her.

Sadly, they just couldn't keep her, so, not wanting to leave her lying in a puddle scared and alone, as they had been so long ago, they pleated with Roy to take her in until they settled down in a place that was not a hotel or train station bench.

Mustang had been so enchanted by the petite cat that he had immediately said yes, startling them and the rest of his crew by his enthusiasm. Edward had huffed in approval, informing Roy that her name was Nina. By the sad smile on his face Roy had pulled the kitten into his arms and had taken her in, without a second thought. Of course, he didn't realize that this kitten was about as stubborn as Ed himself and certainly ate more that both Roy and Edward's meals combined. She cost him a fortune and more with all of her needs and wants, but as much as he reasoned with himself, he just couldn't give her up, not even when Alphonse himself had came looking for her before he left for Risembool.

Roy had tried so hard to act as if he didn't care and that the cat meant nothing to him, but as Alphonse picked her up and walked back towards the door all hell broke loose. Nina had clawed her way up his chest, and flung herself from his shoulder into Roy's arms, and no matter how much they pulled, she just wouldn't let go. At first Mustang had tried to apologize, but Al just grinned merrily and said that if Nina loved him so much then it would just be cruel to take her with him back to Risembool.

Mustang had rejoiced, silently in his head, thanking Alphonse for letting him have her, and when the younger Elric had closed the door behind him Roy had flung Nina into his arms and spun her around. That was the first time he ever had a pet. Nina had stayed small, and her body stayed between adulthood and, well, kittenhood. She was rather huffy about him commenting on her size, which reminded Roy so much of Ed.

Mustang pulled the kitten into the crook of his arm, petting down her ruffled gray fur. She purred contentedly, licking her paw as he contemplated on getting another cup of coffee or not. He quickly decided against it, not wanting to take the chance of hurling it all back up when his stomach was tired of compromising. Nina meowed contentedly, looking up at him with big blue eyes. It took a lot to make Roy melt, but Nina always did.

"Now, what to do..." He asked the room, dropping Nina onto the floor, ignoring her hiss of irritation. He pulled his crutches to him, swinging into the living room to where his flat screen TV was. He bent over, groaning as his back cracked and grabbed the remote turning it on. The news came on, and a woman who looked in her forties droned on.

"An alchemic explosion took place behind me today, in the middle of the night. Five people were reported to be missing and two are treating injuries," She gestured to the devastation behind her and walked up to a young woman. She was bloody and grimy. Her clothes were tattered and her eyes were filled with grief and fear.

"Millie Wilson, will you please tell us a bit of what happened?"

Millie frowned and inhaled slowly, before replying with horror clear in her timbre, "It was terrifying, everything suddenly came down around us and people were screaming, I-I I made it out just in time, but my hus-husband was pulled from my grasp and- and now-" She looked close to tears, her lower lip was quivering and she had a fierceness in her eye that told everyone she was not afraid, but apprehensive.

The news reporter turned away from the sobbing women. She had tears in her brown eyes, but she wiped them away professionally smiling apologetically at the camera.

"Now all we can do is wait, and hope for the best, back to you Davison."

Roy shook his head sadly. It made him wonder if alchemy was evil or if it was the people who were evil. The image was transferred to a pale, mean looking man with a thick head of hair, gel glinting slimily in the florescent lighting. Davison smiled warmly at the camera, and Roy had a sneaking suspicion that he was more of a self righteous man more than compassionate one. He was standing in front of a hospital room, speaking into a black microphone.

"Hello! Today we are going to be talking to the Fullmetal Alchemist, who was brutally attacked the day of his birthday, he's not expecting us, so lets investigate." Roy clenched his jaw and stifled a smirk as Davison was stopped by Hawkeye, who looked anything but happy.

"Excuse me Sir but I do not think you have any authorization to enter this room." Riza said stoically, moving to stand in front of the door as Davison tried to push past her. Davison sighed as if he dealt with women like her everyday.

"Ma'am-" He started, looking extremely patient, but Hawkeye quickly cut him off, "You will address me as Sir, Mr. Feltman," She gave him a hard look and continued, "The Fullmetal Alchemist is not in the shape to have visitors, let alone a little boy with an ego three times his size." Her lips twitched upward and Roy guffawed as Davison blushed in humiliation. His eyes narrowed in determination, and he replied confidently, "I'm sure that's not the case, if it were, then why would he have a women protecting him-ö he broke off as the hospital room door burst outward, and in the doorway stood Edward Elric, shaking with fury, eyebrows narrowed maliciously. He was wearing a loose black long sleeve shirt with his leather pants, his hair was in a ponytail ruffled and messy and behind him was the Doctor talking to him frantically. Alphonse was reaching out to pull him back.

Edward turned away from the Davison, and the camera trailed behind him, zooming into his back as he walked farther away.

"Mr. Elric! We have a few questions for you, would you mind answering them!"

Edward stopped suddenly and the camera man skillfully dodged him, walking in front of Ed to get a view of his face.

"What?"

Davison hesitated, his confidence quickly draining as Edward's voice hardened menacingly, quickly he continued, "What exactly happened on your birthday?"

"Strippers," came Edward's retort, keeping a well earned smirk of success from his face. It was almost too convincing, the way he looked into the camera with not an ounce of emotion playing on his face, only fierce amusement lighting his eyes, and soon Roy found himself doubling over with laughter, near a hysterical breakdown.

Recovering hastily, Davison pushed the gaudy black microphone into his face and asked with an unworthy grin, "Why would you have anyone protecting you Fullmetal, let alone a woman-" He instantly stopped when met with a sinister glower

"You god damn bastard, who do you think you are, putting yourself above women as if you have the right. Have you ever been in the military? No, you live your life at a safe distance, acting selfishly, pretending that you actually care when you don't," Edward's voice was dangerously calm and low, "You act sobby when your around the camera, wishing to appear humble in front of the world," By now Davison was motioning the camera man to turn it off, "Wake up Mr. Feltman, a women could beat you senseless and you would still deny the fact that they are better than you-"

The imaged was then cut off and a nervous woman, sweat beading on her upper lip, smiled timidly at him.

"We'll be back after these announcements," she informed.

Roy turned away from the TV, grinning deviously at Edward witty response to that pricks words. He could have lived that way all his life, but anyone who threatens his team, offends them, pays the price. He probably would have handled it less than mature by beating the man until he was tied up in his balls, but then Hawkeye probably would have shot him, and he couldn't have that.

Then again, it should have been him in the hospital, nursing a bruised body and mind. If he should have stayed seated, watching as the assaulter ran away with his identity, and then everyone would have been safe.

But that was not the case. Fullmetal was not out of harms way, he was right there, challenging harm to a duel, looking it right in the eyes with a fearless determination. Edward was hiding something, something big that would change everything. He was keeping locked away deep inside him, guarding it like a dragon would treasure. Roy had no doubt the Alphonse knew of Ed's secrets. Edward entrusted more than half of his soul to Al, and visa versa. If something was going on, the best way to find out about it was through Al, he was a kind spirit and so, naturally, he wouldn't be able to keep a secret for long. Unfortunately, Al had Ed's stubbornness, and that was always a disadvantage. One thing Roy hated was being kept out of the loop.

Roy limped to the television, pressing the power button. The screen went black within seconds and the man gibbering was instantly cut short. Roy sighed with relief and turned away, swinging himself towards the kitchen with the intent of getting breakfast. Watching Ed outwit someone always made him feel better.

He went straight to the fridge, pulling out his free ranged brown eggs and a pound of bacon. He took out three eggs and five strips of bacon, placing the rest back in his fridge.

He then cracked each egg carefully against the edge of the pan, licking his lips as the smell of cooking eggs hit him with a mouthwatering intensity, right in the face. He smashed them around with his spatula, smiling as they sizzled in their pan. Once they were done he flipped them onto a white plate, getting ready to make his bacon. The preparations done, he dropped each bacon strip in to the pan, flinching away as a series of pops and crackles emitted from the pan. He flipped them over, limping over to his fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice.

A soft inconspicuous knock informed him of guest, and he shouted to the door, "Just a minute!"

He limped forward, swinging himself of his two crutches. He fumbled with the locks, unbolting each one at a time. When he finally got every lock open, he swung open the door, fumbling a bit as he lost balance.

On his door step was Edward Elric. He was hunched over, with a gray jacket covering his head. He looked around nervously before meeting his eyes, a pleading look within them. Behind him was Alphonse. He was wearing gray slacks and a white button up shirt tucked neatly into his pants. Thrown over his head was a sophisticated black trench coat which looked a bit to big to be his own.

"Um, Sir? Can we stay here? We're being flogged by news reporters and interviewers and they won't leave us alone, Hawkeye left to ward them off, but they still find their way past!" Alphonse explained in a quiet voice, he looked up at the rumbling clouds, glancing around restlessly, before continuing, "Please?"

Roy sighed and pulled the door back so the two Elric brothers could duck under his arm. When they were safely inside, he slammed the door shut, locking it back up behind them.

They looked disheveled, and Alphonse bowed respectively, thanking him promptly.

"It's fine Al, really, just stay here 'til things settle down," He replied, trying to calm the timid teenager. Alphonse sighed with relief, and his shoulders slumped as the tension suddenly released.

"Thank you General."

Roy grunted in reply and walked away, turning towards the stairs to his room for some well needed rest.

"Um Sir?" Alphonse called out to him shyly, with an undertone of panic.

"Yes Al?"

"Your bacons on fire,"

Roy swore and scrambled into the kitchen, trying to ignore the suppressed snickers coming from Fullmetals direction.

It was going to be a long day.

Edward finally couldn't quell his laughter any longer and he bent over clutching his stomach as tremors of laugher ran through his shoulders. He straightened up as Roy pulled the bacon off of the stove, looking for something to stop the fire without completely ruining his breakfast. It was a failed cause. Alphonse grabbed a large bowl and filled it with water, swinging the bowl so that all of the water fell on him and his breakfast. The fire went out with a large sizzle and Roy stood stunned as water dripped down his face. Fullmetal howled with laughter.

"And they promoted you to _General_?" Edward said wiping amused tears from his eyes. He rubbed his chest wincing, chuckling under his breath as he walked out of the kitchen.

A very long day.

**This is, by far, the longest chapter I have done so far. Anyway, I am really hoping that this chapter with get at least two review, and so far I have four :) It really does inspire me when people review because it shows that they like it, so, REVIEW PLEASE! ^_^ thank you for reading.**


	4. Your Memories Haunt Me

Edward looked around him curiously, taking in the personal and mellow landscape with mild scrutiny. It was, to an extent, very homey, and Ed found herself relaxing slowly as the warm atmosphere began to interfere with her rational thinking. It was hard to think there could be any danger in a place full of benevolence. The thing that stumped Edward was the fact that it was the Flame Alchemist house; the one who's smirked made her blood boil and her heart race all in one.

The living room was nice. It was a soft tan color, and on the walls hung several art pieces, arranged tactfully, popping from the wall with subtle grace. There was a large black couch positioned in front of a huge flat screen TV, and a beautiful glass table sat before the leather couch, within easy reach. There was a tall window on the other side of the room, and resting on the sill was a humble plant. Its leaves were a mint color, and fuzzy white hairs adorned its form. There were pinkish honey suckle looking flowers sprouting amidst' its wiry body, much too feminine for Mustangs taste, making Ed wonder if a lover, who probably knew nothing of Roy's fancies, would have thought to buy him such a plant instead of the gaudy expensive jewelry that most of his lovers lavished him with.

Edward sat on Mustangs leather couch and grabbed the remote before Roy, swinging in on crutches, snatched it from his hands, dripping water onto Edward's clean clothes. Ed looked up inquisitively raising one golden eyebrow in question.

"Since you're in my house, why don't you make yourself useful and make us all breakfast, since I am so _handy-capped_, that I can't even handle a spatula." Roy demanded, placing the remote back onto the glass coffee table with a musical clank. Edward snickered in pleasure as the sopping wet Mustang turned away, fists clenched on the handles of his crutches. He turned a corner to the stairs, most likely to get out of his soaked clothing and to dry himself off.

Edward huffed defiantly and pushed herself from the couch with her flesh arm, wincing as her Automail ached with heat. When she was in the hospital she had been forced to wear a sling, seeing that the skin around her prosthetic limb was sprained, extremely tender, and the skin ripped apart by far too much weight, Roy Mustang, but ever since she got out she had been forcing herself to endear the pain. Ed entered the kitchen reluctantly, and started. Al was already frying some bacon strips in a skillet, flipping them around with a patience Edward just didn't seem to have.

"I thought I would make Mustang some breakfast, considering I ruined it." Alphonse said without looking at her.

Edward snorted, leaning against the counter and grimacing as her chest throbbed.

"You didn't do anything; if he hadn't of left it sitting there on the stove like an idiot then it probably wouldn't have happened."

Al laughed quietly and flipped the bacon onto a white plate, he put the spatula and pan in the clean sink and grabbed the plate, rummaging around in the drawer for a fork. He smiled at Ed and walked past her, calling out timidly for Mustang. A few minutes later he appeared in a pair of black pants and a white, button up shirt. He took the plate eagerly from Al, murmuring heartfelt thanks before shoveling down the food.

Edward rolled her eyes and let her eyes wander back over to the plant sitting on the windowsill. Her curiosity stoked once again, she walked over to it and blinked as the smell of 7up hit him like a smack in the face.

"Weird isn't it?" Mustang asked once he returned from the kitchen. He was wiping his hands on a dish towel, no doubt from washing his plate. He threw the wash cloth onto the dining room table and smirked, ditching one of the crutches so he could limp over. "I'm not sure what it's called, but ever since it arrived on my door step I'd been all over it." he continued, taking one of its heart shaped leaves in his hand and running his thumb over it softly.

"Smells like 7up," Edward muttered leaning forward to sniff the scent which filled the air around the dainty and elegant plant. Roy chuckled and nodded.

"I don't know whether they were made naturally or if they were made from science, but they smell good, so I keep it there,"

Roy pulled back, stretching his body out in one fluid motion. His joints popped ominously, and he wincing as his knee twisted in the wrong way. Edward grimaced empathetically, and asked bluntly, "Did that happen at my party? Your knee?"

Mustang was already shaking his head. "I got tackled on my way home form the hospital." Edward felt her eyebrows rise in a silent question; Roy didn't seem too pleased to answer. "They were asking for you," Edward's mouth went slack, and she stumbled over her words as she replied with a dangerous ferocity, "Why the hell didn't he just come after me?"

Roy shrugged, showing that he was just as confused as Edward was. "Don't know, but they're getting desperate enough to attack in only one day, do you have any idea what they're after?" he questioned looking at Edward out of the corner of his eye.

Edward gulped, and tried to hold the Flame Alchemist piercing gaze, only to break away recklessly in an attempt to keep his soul hidden from such keen experienced eyes. Edward forced a smirk to slither onto her lips, cringing on the inside at the false, slimy feel of it.

"Who wouldn't want all of this?" The words fell from her mouth greasily, and she raised her eyebrow to top it off, hoping he wouldn't see past the unbreakable mask. Mustang frowned softly, a disconcerting glint sharpening in his eyes. But he turned away with a gentle sigh, limping back into the kitchen without a second glance. Edward closed her eyes and swallowed her hammering heart down her throat in pain.

It had been going on for sometime, the masked fiends jumping from the shadows with vigorous speed, always crouched in an animalistic way, malicious venom shining in their eyes. It sickened Ed to watch as they lost one battle after another, amateurs, cocky with their power. Slowly each kidnapper began getting less arrogant and more cautious, slinking through the gloom even the light couldn't touch. They became predatory, a sick perverse intelligence taking form. Their emotions, even pleasure at Edward's pain, were left to sob behind them, and they came at him with a rapacious grace.

Edward could guess what they were after, easily. The masked enemies would clutch at his collar and pull him close, spitting blood onto his face as they whispered with their last breaths '_We want your memories, and we will get them. He will find you, and you will suffer for them_'.

It had started with Al's return.

She had gotten Alphonse body back with little trouble, only one, sickly sweet vow from the Gate Keeper.

'_Memories can haunt you more than you think, young alchemist. That is a promise_'

The figure's voice had been wickedly calm, making Edward's skin raise in disgust, and her eye's narrow with defiance and suspicion. But Truth had simply vanished, and she had woken up by a twig body, frail and beautiful beside her. Al's warmth seeped through her clothing, and she had thrown her arms around him, sobbing out her fears until she felt alive again. They traveled to Risembool, arm in arm, and gave Winry a welcomed startle, together.

Edward had expected to sleep well that night, free from her lingering guilts for just that one sunset. But how wrong she had been. The night wrapped her into its embrace with a sleepy seduction, burying its teeth into her mind and body. She was under its influence within the minute, sensing the heat of success, slip from her palm like a worm. Slowly, she lost herself to a dream, or, rather, a memory that wasn't hers.

_She was in the middle of a room on her stomach. The woven fabric of a carpet pressed against her cheek made creases in her skin. It worn and frayed, a dirty white color, splattered with a dark red color. Her right leg throbbed aggressively, blooming with pain, and her left eye was swollen shut. She felt small and weak. _

_Suddenly, she pushed herself up, and limbed over to a body length mirror on the side of the room. It felt as if she were watching from the inside of her own body, unable to do anything as her body went against her will, yet she still felt the pain blossom as she tested her weight on her right leg. It buckled from under her and she went crashing to the ground in a heap. A weak moan carried from her mouth. Her body pushed itself up, and she glanced up at the mirror fearfully._

_She looked just barely ten, with golden brown hair, the moons light reflecting off of it. Her left eye was enlarged, swollen shut. It was a grotesque blue and black, greening around the edges. She reached up and pocked it, flinching as the pain doubled, tears welling in her eyes. She was wearing a light blue tank top, smeared with blood, and a pair of tan shorts around her hips. She pulled her right leg in front of the reflecting surface and let out a horrified shriek as she took in the sight of her mangled leg._

_It was swelling, bruised from the ankle to her knee, throbbing in the grim lighting. Then a perverse voice flew to her, racking her body with shivers and sobs._

_"_Mary-Anne, where are you? I've missed you, my dear_." _

_A shadow fell upon her, and she looked into the mirror as a hand came out from the gloom, covering her mouth just as a terrified screech built up in her throat._

She had woken, covered in sweat, looking into the eyes of her childhood friend Winry, who was shaking her in concern. There were tears in her eyes, and she wiped them away in embarrassment, murmuring a thanks. Winry had shaken her some more and questioned frankly, "_What's going on with you, Edward Elric?_" Ed had simply shrugged, probing her eye with care, and letting a breath of relief escape her when no pain came. It was only a dream. Dreams didn't always make sense, so why did this one have to? Why did it seem so real? Winry sighed and walked from the room, calling out quietly that she would be there if Edward were ever to need her.

Back then, they only happened every other night or so, but now, they were continuous. They made her shake with fear that wasn't her own, smile through happy tears, and they made her painfully aroused, pushed through intimate scenes, memories of someone other than herself. She was fairly use to them, and dealt with them the only way she knew how.

Bottling them up.

That didn't help, it just made her yearn for things she couldn't have, it made her weep on the inside, and it made her want to cut herself out from this world from the exhaustion it left her. So she started writing them down. It was in a pocket size brown leather journal, with a sturdy golden lock embellishing its buckle. It had a matching key which hung from a silver chain at her neck, resting on the hollow of her throat. Winry had given it to her on her official, sixteenth birthday, and ever since the following morning, had been writing down all of her troubles.

Unfortunately, they took a great deal of strength and resolve from her. She would wake from her memory, of a lover, a murderer, a rapist, in the barest tints of night, maybe one or two, and she wouldn't have the luxury of falling back asleep. Alphonse had caught on quickly, noticing her insomniac ways, distressed by the purple bruises beneath her eyes. And when he began questioning her, she panicked, throwing forward some excuse to rid herself of the invasive doubts. Edward loved her brother very much, had risked her life for him and beyond, would spill the beans to him about everything, but this felt personal, something she had to do on her own.

With each night it became less bearable, every time she would wake, drenched in her horror, left to pick up the pieces of a very broken, Edward Elric. And each time the pieces would get smaller, and harder to scavenge. She still didn't sleep, not without helping it. And now, now she was stuck in the Flame Alchemist home, and by the looks of the storm threatening just outside of the window, and the icy pelts of rain hitting Roy's window, they were probably going to have to stay there for the night. Winry, who had left when Edward had woken up to hunt for new Automail tools, was probably at Alphonse cozy apartment building, pacing nervously as she smacked her wrench against the palm of her hand immorally.

Edward jumped as someone touched her lightly on her shoulder, and looked up into the trusting eyes of her brother.

"I'm going to call Winry and tell her we can't make it to dinner, let alone the apartment." He informed Ed, fidgeting apprehensively. Edward nodded, and looked back out the glass. The gray clouds rumbled their complains to him, making Edward cringe. Bad things always came with the rain.

"Sister?" Alphonse began, wincing as Edward glared at him meaningfully. He was not to call Edward his sister unless they were sure not to be overheard.

"Do you- are you still having problems sleeping?"

Edward sighed, knowing that she had it coming for her. It was hard to be secretive in front of her brother, when every twitch in her brow, and the slump of her shoulders told him everything that he needed to know.

"No of course not," She lied skillfully, smiling arrogantly at the younger man, "Why do you ask?"

Edward twisted the key around her neck slowly, between her pointer and thumb, glaring daggers at the trimming of the window. "Because you're slumping, there's a tick in your left eye, and you're fiddling with your key, it only makes sense that those are sighs of exhaustion, you're trying to keep yourself awake." He retorted. His voice was a mixture of desperation and despair. Edward bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. Why did he have to know her so well?

"Please, _Brother_, I just want to know what's wrong! I know you've never really slept right, but ever sense I've gotten back you just can't seem to close your eyes!"

Edward choked back her fear, keeping her eyes fixated on the plants, small peach flowers, scowling at her own stupidity. She always made people worry.

"I'm fine." She whispered the lie slowly, letting the words flow from her lips listlessly. She was too far gone to start telling the truth, now all she could do, was hope that someone had the courage to drag her from the hole she dug for herself, and pry her fingers from her own coffin. Soon those memories would become her reality, and she would force herself from this world, into the waiting hands of Truth. That was probably its motive. She had saved herself from it, and now when it came to it, she was going to go there willingly.

Alphonse mouth twisted into a snarl. "You are not fine!" He whispered furiously, "What are you so afraid of, Sister? What is it that keeps you from your dreams?" Edward wanted to scream at her brother, to turn to him and point her finger in his face and say, '_I'm afraid of the things that come from the night, I'm afraid of loosing you, I am afraid of fear itself! _'

"What am I afraid of?" she murmured helplessly, but continued to plunge on, "I'm afraid that one day the Gate will take you back, demanding more." She laughed mirthlessly, looking darkly at the polished floorboards. "And I've never dreamed, not since Mom died, unless you call nightmares dreams."

Al slumped against the wall in defeat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I just want to help you," He said, before picking himself from the wall to go call Winry. Edward stifled a sob as things began to haunt her yet again, if only Al hadn't of brought it up. A little girl pushed off a bridge, a boy raped and left to die, and an adult; lover murdered. You can't look at something that isn't yours through a new perspective. You don't know the whole story, and so that renders you the ability to think rationally, instead, there is only the purest and sickest form of horror and terror. To relive memories those aren't yours.

Edward Elric didn't dream. Only the innocent have dreams.

XXXXXXXXXX

Alphonse struggled to hold back his furious sister, pulling on her arm weakly.

"Come on Al! We are out of here!" Edward screamed throwing her full force towards the door, Roy's amused snickers driving her on.

"But, Brother!"

"No one calls me short and gets away with it!" She screamed back at him, reaching out her Automail arm despite the pain it caused her. Three hours had passed since her pondering at the window, and yet, only in three hours did Roy manage to spark her anger and fury. It was infuriating, having grown more than Roy had in the past seven years, and yet he still labeled Edward as short.

"Brother! There was a hurricane warning on the news! It said to stay _indoors_!" Alphonse retorted, grinding his feet into the carpet. "Are you really that stupid?"

"If it means I can get away from that god damn _Bastard,_ then yes, count me as stupid!"

"All he said was that you could take the twin bed!"

Edward rolled her eyes.

"He was implying that I was short!"

"Brother!" Alphonse whined plunking down onto the floor and letting go of Ed's wrist. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, looking up stubbornly at his older sister who mirrored his movements. They locked eyes, engaged in a silent, deadly battle that would have left Roy's house in pieces had it been physical. Then, Edward cracked, and she sighed, rolling her eyes again as she helped Alphonse off of the floor.

"Fine." She muttered angrily to Mustang, trying to keep her anger within range. She grabbed the pillow and blankets from Roy's hands and charged up the stair, taking two at a time. There were four doors, two on each side. She gently eased the first one open, cursing her pride for not being able to ask which room she was to sleep in. The first room was Roy's. It was a deep blue color, with a silver trimming around the window. There was a mahogany dresser on one side and a mirror following. On the dresser was a vase full of dried flowers, and a comb, but nothing else. There was a closet to one side, and the bed was king sized, lavished with one big, fluffy red blanket and two monstrous pillows that Edward was certain you could suffocate in.

Edward winced as the door clicked shut behind her and she fumbled backwards, quietly running into something hard. She turned around, growling under her breath, only to blush furiously at the figure behind her. Roy. She narrowed her eyes and muttered, "Got lost," And turned to move down the hall. He leaned in close, eyes narrowed seductively making Edward's heart pound unevenly in her ears, her blush a deeper more sensual shade of red. "Second door to the left." He murmured in her ear. His breath moved her golden hair from its place, and he smirked as he pulled back, chuckling as he sauntered away. The effect was ruined by his limp and the crutch under his arm.

Edward cursed under her breath and pushed her bangs out of her golden eyes, burning with pleasure and fury. Her attraction for her superior had taken form when she turned fourteen. It had always been there, dormant and patient, waiting for the right moment to strike. Soon, her body was aching with want and lust, and her heart pulsed with the attention he awarded her. It wasn't logical, she reasoned, to have a relationship with your superior officer, let alone with someone nearly fourteen years your senior. Besides, he didn't feel the same way, Roy didn't know she was female, and he wouldn't commit to a man unless it was for sex. Or would he? That little gesture he preformed was just to infuriate her; otherwise, he wouldn't have smirked at the blush so blatantly flaunted. Or did he have some idea of her secret sex?

Every time she thought of this her body would shiver with the need to answer the questions she, herself asked. She would fantasize about running her hands through his licorice black hair, and standing on her tip toes to trace her lips around his. Of course, she wouldn't be caught dead thinking that. It was an unvarnished crush, driven on and exaggerated by the hormones she was rewarded with. Soon, she hoped, soon it would be gone, blown away by the endless taunts he lavished her with.

Edward didn't like to elucidate her personal issues, let alone who she was lusting after. Not even Alphonse knew; no one did. Maybe they had some ideas, noticing the continuous blushes and glances that were all on account of Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, and a horrible seducer who could reel you in with a deep hot look. She would hide them beneath hisses and snarls, when all she wanted to do was stalk up to him and run her hands over his body and become his equal. She should have felted disgust for herself, letting her desires take control of her sanity, but the insatiable libido drove it down to her feet into unwilling submission.

Its not as if she could help it, push it aside and bicker with him like she could when she was still thirteen, but no matter how much she itched for it, it was always three steps ahead of her. It only made it worst that she had to be attracted to _Mustang_, a horrible wolf yearning for something he could get his fangs into, all he would do was turn her inside out for him and then leave her, broken and alone. It hurt. It probably hurt his lovers much worst, but still, they kept coming, an endless supply of hormone driven people, willing to loose something that they would never get back.

She'd been hurt before, plenty of times. Betrayal was something common in the military and unfortunately, she lived within it, trapped in the twisting manipulative web they spun just for you.

Edward growled and pushed open the door, letting it hit the wall with a crash. The room was plain, with a small, twin bed in the center and an oak desk on the other side. There was a wide window in front of her, giving her a great view of a park just over the horizon. There was a plump chair positioned next to it, and Edward walked to it steadily, plopping down with a tired sigh. The room was gold with red around the window trimming, and Edward had a fleeting feeling that this room was just for her.

Pale gloomy light filtered in through the window, and she hissed as the wind pulled metal claws against the window unsympathetically. She felt a headache coming on, and she rubbed her forehead with the heel of the hand. She could always just ask the General if he was gay, or if he felt attracted to _him_ and not _her_. Edward growled. She was just digging herself a deeper hole with each thought. She wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, but maybe that was a good thing.

Sighing, she reached into her gray jacket to a little secret pocket and pulled out her journal, the one that was tainted with the memories she bore every night and beyond. Sighing, she pulled the key out from under her shirt and pushed it into the lock twisting it until she heard a subtle click. She pulled the key out and hide it under the neck of her shirt, making sure that the door was closed before she opened it up with a deep breath.

It was hard to look through something you had to stomach each night, it was hard enough without the journal, but writing in it relieved her of the need to prat out her emotions to any poor soul who happened to be walking by her. Ed snickered softly as a memory flitted to her.

_She was in the middle of the park, red coat pulled skintight against the harsh wind that made her burrow in her thin clothing. She had her head in her hands, and it was sprinkling softly, making her hair damp and itchy. No one was in the public garden that day, for the obvious, and so Edward let the tears flow down her cheeks silently, resigning to her sorrow, allowing herself to indulge in her pain and suffering for just the one day._

_The day she lost everything. _

_No matter how much Al pleated she just wouldn't let herself feel relief. Not after she had lost so much to the gate, not after she was penalized. And so each day of that year, she mourned for the loss of her innocence and childhood._

_It was the soft footsteps splashing melodiously in the thin puddles that made her jerk her head up in surprise. In front of her was a woman with soft copper hair, unruly in the humid weather. It fizzed stubbornly around her crown, and perched on her nose was a pair of large green rimmed glasses, fogged up from her warm breath. She was wearing a pair of jeans, something most women were too shy to wear, and a purple jacket, hood hanging limp down her back._

_Edward narrowed her eyes unintentionally and glared at the girl, trying to ward her off with the anger and sorrow in her eyes. Instead, her eyes, widened in surprise, softened and she trudged towards her, and plopped down next to her, pulling out a tan bag she hadn't noticed before onto her lap. She unbuttoned it slowly and brought out a small paper bag, pulling out a sandwich wrapped in plastic. She handed it to Ed without warning, taking out another sandwich as if she were expecting company._

_"You seem lonely, I thought you might want some company," She said in a soft, hoarse voice. Edward blinked at her, startled. She laughed quietly, that sounded like dry skin rubbing over paper._

_"When I was a child, about your age, seventeen, eighteen," Ed smiled, realizing that it was the first time anyone had ever guessed her age right, "I was kidnapped." Edward frowned, sadly knowing how she felt. _

_"My throat was slit and I was used in an alchemy experiment, I'm not sure what," Edward's eyes widened in disbelief, and she felt a lump in her windpipe, and she swallowed it back down difficultly. "Sadly, my vocal cords never quiet healed, and so now I am stuck with a voice that is like sand." _

_Ed didn't know what to say, this stranger had walked up to her and probably told something so terrifying that Edward would have locked up inside her, and without even thinking, she blurt out, "I'm Edward Elric!"_

_She smiled and said, "I know,"_

_Ed bit nervously on her lip and said quietly, "I'm sixteen and I am in the military. They think I'm male but I'm actually female." She rambled, setting the sandwich on her lap and wringing her hands apprehensively. She looked at the women out of the corner of her eyes and found her smiling, motioning Edward on._

_"I wasn't born female, when I was about eleven my brother and I tried to transmute our mother back to life, but instead I lost my leg and brother. I bonded his soul to a suit of armor and lost my arm in the process, then, not that long ago I got him back at a huge price," She needed to stop, or she would never block out the words. _Stop! _She thought, _stop! _"Now every night when I go to sleep I see things that aren't mine, and they scare me!" _Edward! No! Don't! _"I'm afraid they will become my reality!" She yelled jumping up and sending the sandwich to the wet ground. She wiped the salty tears away hurriedly, and bent forward to pick it back up. Her knees scrapped the ground and the water soaked through the legs of her leather pants._

_"I'm sorry, that was terribly rude of me. I probably ruined the sandwich, god damn it! Sorry! Edward, stupid, stupid, didn't even think before you jumped up and knocked that perfectly good sandwich on the ground! She probably took a long time preparing it!" She muttered, more to herself than to the stranger beside her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she picked up the food, thanking the plastic wrapping for keeping it nice and dry, letting droplets of tears plop onto her wet gloves, hoping the rain would hide her tears._

_A hand was laid on her back and she jumped, looking up into a pair of deep, trusting blue eyes._

_"Use your voice, sing." She said in a smooth and soft voice. She pushed the sandwich towards her mouth and finished, "Eat."_

_Edward blinked in amazement and felt her mouth tug upwards. And then she hugged the women and said in a timbre just as soft and sweet._

_"Thank you."_

_Afterward when the women had left, she went home and ate the sandwich, which was turkey. Apparently, she had looked like she was in heaven, and so Al had commented with a laugh," The best sandwich you ever had?"_

_Edward had smiled sadly and replied, "Hell, yes!" Around a mouthful of lettuce, turkey, cheese and bread._

Edward smiled at the storm blowing out side the window, and locked her little pocket book back up, placing it back into its pouch within her coat.

With memories like this, sometimes the nights didn't seem so harsh.

**I hope you liked it! I worked really hard on this one! Please review, they always make me more motivated (If I don't get any reviews it just feels like nobody likes it!)**


	5. I'll Help You to Dream

_The desert._

_Burning._

_Suffocating, as I raise my hand, posed to snap. They scream, beg, and cry. And when my finger slips and I feel the familiar lurch of my gut, as the alchemy unfolds itself around my fingers, I know I will never forget a face, never let their accusing screams float away with age and time. They will pierce my soul forever and bury themselves within me and then they will punish me when I reach them._

_I feel the tears tugging and I swallow them down with no pity, no mercy. I am a dog. A vicious dog, bloodlust in my eyes. Remember what they call you. You are the Burner of Ishbal, a Hellion. Rabies. Remember, Roy, remember. You are their dog. Tamed, snarling and brutal._

_That's right, Roy, smirk. Smirk and make them think your enjoying yourself. Show no weakness, or you'll be smothered, and your flame will go out. One day you'll bite them back; show them that you are not a dog, but a wolf in a cage. _

_But not right now._

_Make them believe._

_I lift my hand again, about to snap, when I feel a tug on my arm. I look down, prepared to knock them dead, bleeding crimson into the sand, prepared to be the monster they believe I am. _

_I stop cold._

_"_Why did you do it?_" They question. Small children with brown skin, red eyes and a head full on white hair. They are whole, unblemished, and then a flame bursts from the ground around them, and they burn and burn and burn. And then they are bones. _

_"_Why did you do it? Why did you kill us?_" _

_I flinch and scramble backwards, only to feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn away from the remains and slowly look around, eyes widened in horror and terror, hoping for some reassurance. It's Bradely, a calm smile on his face. He holds a sword, stained with blood, dripping, dripping, dripping. _

_"_Well done, Mustang, well done."

_This is my chance, I think, this is my chance. I lift my fingers and snap, a satisfactory smile slides into place. I'm going to enjoy watching him burn. Then suddenly it's not the Fuhrer, but Edward, crouched on the ground in pain, arms wrapped around his face as burns spread over his flesh and skin peels off onto the sandy ground. Edward looks up, and instead of tawny fire, his eyes are pure black, narrowed. He opens his mouth and black smoke rushes from his mouth. His skin is melting away, to bone, to dust._

_"_You killed me,_" He accuses, "_You killed me._"_

_I am burning._

_Burning. _

Roy jerked awake and sat up, breathing hoarsely, as small noises escaped from his mouth. He inhaled deeply, coughing as it burned the back of his throat. A sigh bubbled up and he pulled the covers aside, swinging his legs over his bed in relief. It was only a dream. He looked up at the ceiling, watching the fan turn slowly in a lulling manor.

Roy, rubbed grit and sleep from his eyes, reaching out blindly for his crutch as images from his dream wash over him like tar. He pushed himself from the bed, going around the bed frame to the door, hesitating. He shook his head in denial, and pushed open the door lethargically, turning towards the stairway to get a glass of whisky from the living room. His hands shook and the bottle and glass clanked against each other musically. The amber liquid swirled within his cup, and he gulped in down, pouring himself another as soon as the last swallow was down.

When he was up the stairs, having finally brought the bottle with him, he turned to his room, only to notice warm, yellow light, filtering from a crack in Edwards's room. He trudged forward, ready to scorn Edward for being up so late, hypocritically so. He pushed the door open slightly, peeking into the room. His eyes widened and he pushed it open all the way, letting a shocked noise escape unintentionally.

His room was in tatters. The curtains were pulled from the window; the drawers were on the ground in splinters. The blankets were torn into shreds on the floor, and the pillows were ragged, feathers pouring from their gaping wounds. Every single item he had in there was smashed, in pieces that would be impossible to put back together. In the middle of the wreckage, wrapped up in the ribbons of blankets was Edward Elric, head in hands, shivers raking through his shoulders.

"Ed?" He questioned slowly, voice gruff and raspy.

Edward's head snapped up and Roy was surprised to see tears in his eyes, nearly spilling over. They widened until they had taken up a large quantity of his face and he quickly ducked his head, wiping the liquid from his eyes frantically with his sleeve. He got up hastily, looking around desperately.

"Oh god! I'm- I'm I'm sorry! I'll fix this up, I will! I'll make it right, I'll make it right! Stupid, stupid, stupid, always getting yourself into trouble, always making problems for other people!" He began picking up the tattered blanket, and the tears made their silent path down his cheeks. Roy reached forward tentatively. He was afraid, that under his touch, Edward would break away in pieces.

"Edward." He called, grabbing onto Ed's wrist hopefully. Edward recoiled, and winced, trying to pull his wrist from Roy's grasp. His hand was clenched, shaking over Mustangs cautious hold. Roy turned Edward's wrist up and looked down at the hand, slowly unfolding each finger from the object within. It was a large piece of glass. Its jagged mocking edges carved large gruesome red lines across Edward's dainty palm, and his fingers were slashed up, dripping blood onto Roy's nice black and gold Xing carpet.

Roy's jaw tightened and he looked up at Edward Elrics face scornfully. His face was bent toward the floor, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He reached up his Automail arm, and wiped his eyes seriously. He then looked up into Roy's eyes and instead of unspeakable fire, or depression, was a empty, hopeless look which adorned his face. He hiccuped, and looked back down at the floor forlornly. Roy, wanting to strike the boy, put a hesitant hand on Ed's shoulder and pulled him forward softy. He sighed.

"Come on, Edward. Let's fix your hand."

Edward went along limply, dragging his mismatched feet down the hall in dejection. Roy plopped Ed down onto the toilet seat and rummaged around in the cabinet for the first aid kit he kept there. He pulled out anesthetics and bandages, dragging out a small stool from under the sink to sit on. He pulled out a pair of black rimmed glasses and sat them on the bridge of his nose, grabbing Edwards hand to gaze on it. Edward snorted. "I didn't know you wore glasses," trying to stir up small talk. Roy gazed at Ed over his glasses. "Yeah, well, I'm far sighted and when your getting old, your senses tend to dull some." He replied, looking from Ed's hand to the blue box in his lap, rifling through until he found a pair of tweezers.

Roy caught Edward looking at it in distaste, nose scrunched up, eyebrows pushed close together. Roy laughed humorlessly.

"You have glass in your hand, if we keep it in then your hand will get infected, and it will hurt a lot worst than it does now."

Edward pouted.

"I'll take my chances." he said, beginning to pull his hand from Mustangs grasp, but Roy tightened his hold, narrowing his eyes accusingly. "If you hadn't of held onto that glass like a masochist, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through with it," he said, rubbing his forehead with his free hand, "I mean, god, Ed, what the hell were you thinking!" Edward's head dropped down to his chest in remorse, and his shoulders began to shake again. "Never mind," Roy mumbled, turning back to Ed's hand, "Forget I asked, just please, instead of destroying my house and butchering your hand, talk to someone."

Edward was about to open his mouth just as Roy pulled a large piece of glass from his palm. He yelped, ready to yell at the Flame Alchemist, but was silenced with a glare. Mustang went about pulling out the shards, putting them into the garbage can next to the toilet.

"You know," Roy started, troubled by the remorseful, hurt feeling that radiated from Edwards small form, filling the air with sorrow and doubt, "I was wondering." Roy stopped, halfway in between pulling out a small piece of glass and swallowed. Roy knew how it felt to be questioned, called out because of the dark thoughts that lingered in his eyes. He knew how it felt to hate that person, for intruding, when all they wanted to do, was help. Roy looked down at the tiled floor in desperation. Part of him wanted to challenge Edwards silence, and the other wanted to look away and forget that he had ever saw the obsessive regret in the great Fullmetal Alchemist eyes and soul.

"Yes?" Edward encouraged, resting his chin onto his Automail palm. Roy quickly pulled out the other piece and began on another. "I was wondering what you were doing, I mean, you've never broken down before...did...did something happen?"

Edward looked away, tugging at the end of his low tail. He looked up at Roy's slumped form, opened his mouth, closed it and looked away. "Roy-" Ed started biting his bottom lip in a silent struggle between logic and loneliness. Mustang pulled back and studied Edwards face, surprised. That was the first time he had ever heard Ed say his first name. Edward took a deep breath and began again, "Mustang?" Roy frowned in disappointment, and grunted a reply. "I'm not-" abruptly, the bathroom door swung open.

Alphonse stomped in, dressed in Roy's old sweats, eyes narrowed. His fists were balled up by his side and his hair was tousled, sticking up at one end. There were lines beneath his eyes. "Brother," He began lethally, "I saw your room, I saw your light on in the middle of the night and went to investigate." He stalked forward and stuck his pointer finger in Edwards face. "You lied to me! You told me that you were sleeping okay from now on! Why can't you just trust me?" Edwards head bent in shame and Roy looked from Ed to Al in confusion.

"Has this been happening frequently?"

Alphonse turned to Roy. "Almost every night." He hissed. "This is the second time he's gone on a rampage, nearly destroyed everything in his path!"

Roy looked up at Ed in question, clearly surprised. "Is there something you need to tell me Fullmetal?" He queried, pulling out the last piece of glass. Edward's eyes narrowed and he looked at the sink in fury.

"No, nothing at all, _General_."he seethed, pulling away his hand as soon as Mustang had finished bandaging it. He stood up from the toilet and walked past Al, giving him a look full of complicated meaning. He opened the bathroom door and slammed it shut, rattling the content on Roy's shelves. Roy flinched.

Alphonse let out a breath and turned back to Mustang, whose head was turned away.

"I better go talk to him." He murmured, following after his brother. Roy got up and stretched his muscles. He sanitized his tweezers and began putting everything back into its original place. Roy gripped the sink hopelessly, looking up into the mirror in anger. There were dark, patronizing bruises beneath his eyes, and a hint of stubble across his jaw. His chin was raw, and red from scraping it on the pavement, and a jagged line cut across his chin and neck. He looked deadly, ready to beat down any who opposed him. He looked as if he had had enough of all the pain he had.

Roy shook his head and washed his hands slowly, watching as the blood swirled down the drain. He dried his hands and left the bathroom.

Intent on helping Edward clean the room he sauntered towards his room, reaching out to push it open.

"-happened this time?"

Quiet voices filtered through the door and he paused, pushing it open to a crack to peer into the room. Edward was sitting on the bed, head in hands, shaking his head while Al was standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest in a parental scolding.

"-to fix this."

Alphonse raised his arms in defeat and leaned forward to put his hands on Ed's shoulders.

"Just let me help you! Please, I'll give anything to help you!" He shook Edward a little bit and leaned back, looking rejected and pessimistic. Roy pushed through, assuming that their little scuffle was over. Both heads turned towards him, and Mustang shrugged, as Al walked past him out of the door with a small smile back at his brother and at Roy. "I'm going to make some coffee." He said, indicating that he would be back.

Mustang sighed and took in the tremendous damage that the tiny Fullmetal Alchemist had caused. "What am I going to do with you?" He muttered, running his fingers over his sighed again and began picking up the torn pieces of cloth on the floor. "Come on, let's clean this room." Edward pushed himself from the bed and went about picking up the splintered remains of Roy's desk.

Mustang got onto his knees and began sorting the mangled objects into piles, keen on fixing most of the objects with a little bit of old fashioned alchemy. Pulling a strip of fabric aside he stopped and looked back down at the carpeted floor. It was a small leather journal, its lock was unfastened, open for any to capture. It was a tantalizing discovery, something Roy was sure Edward wouldn't want any to see, and judging from Al's frustration, not even he had seen it. Roy made a quick grab for it, tucking it into the waistline of his pants before tugging his white T-shirt over the thick book, hoping that the young prodigy would not suspect anything.

Roy didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize Edward and his unsteady friendship, but for the sake of shaking the boy out of his darkness, Roy was willing to take the risk. He would have to be discrete and predatory, a nocturnal animal with a skill for stealth. And when he found the key to unlock Ed's mind and soul, he would take the chance and kill himself in the process if he had to. If not for Edward's sake, then for Alphonse. He could just tell it was tearing up the younger brother into bits, watching his role model, his hero, his older brother torture himself repeatedly in the deep crooks of his mind, hidden behind a false arrogance. Roy knew that whatever Ed was going through that the best thing for him was human presence. If he knew he were not alone, then maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to tear him from the past.

But first he had to find out what was going on. It wouldn't help Edward if Roy didn't know what was he was going through. All he had to go on was that Edward Elric had insomnia, simply because of his dreams, or nightmares, and that a gang of crazy, masked enemies were after him, he wasn't sure why, or what for, but Roy Mustang was certain that the little book tucked in his pants would hold the answer.

For if that wasn't the case, then Edward just might be lost forever in the farthest corner of his mind. Alone. And Roy knew just how that felt.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was three hours later that they finished picking up the scraps and transmuting them into solid objects. Each transmutation had taken a piece of Roy's restless energy, and even the endless amounts of coffee hadn't stifled the drowsiness which cloaked his with the insatiable need to lay his head down on his arm and fall into a dreamless trance. Edward had fallen asleep right after putting everything into order. He had been determined to stay awake through the entire thing, despite Roy's ceaseless objections. Then, near the end he collapsed into an exhausted heap, and even then he would shake himself awake if he felt himself being pulled under.

Roy blinked wearily down at the sleeping form on the floor, curled into a fetal position with his injured hand tucked close to his chest. After debating whether to pick Edward up and plop him onto the bed or leave him where he was, Roy sighed and pulled the mended blankets from the bed, wrapping them around his small framed. Ed moaned and nuzzled into the blankets, kicking out his Automail leg in an uncontrolled way. Mustang swallowed hard and tried to ignore the heat that lurched into his gut, uncomfortable low. Edward's hair was a halo around him, and his mouth was slightly open, enticing, and tormenting. Edward had no idea how Roy felt about him, how he made Roy react.

It was only the fact that he was male.

Roy couldn't help but cringe at the thought of it, and despite all of his objections, he just couldn't push past the fact the Edward had the same anatomy as Roy. Roy wasn't gay. Sure, he bedded plenty of virgin men before, but the commit to one was just something that Roy wasn't willing to do, not at all. Roy Mustang had nothing against homosexuals, nothing in the least, but he couldn't push past it, no matter how hard he tried.

Roy sighed and backed away quietly, closing the bedroom door behind him. There was no point in hoping, sense there was nothing that could change Edward, nor was there anything that could change Roy's view. There was no point dwelling on things you can't change.

So, with new resolve, he trudged down the stairs for a cup of well earned coffee. The little book in his pants waistline rubbed against his skin in a demanding way and Roy quickly decided to take the coffee up into his study to work on it until the sun rose from the horizon.

He pushed his way through the kitchen and nodded at the younger Elric brother in acknowledgment, hoping that he didn't look as tired as he felt. He took the warm cup of coffee from Al's hands and grunted his appreciation, not bothering to let it cool down before taking a large gulp. Its bitter taste coated his tongue and woke him up a bit as it scorched his throat all the way down. "Edward's upstairs, out like a light, I wouldn't wake him." He advised the honey haired man. He spun around and walked out of the kitchen. "Thanks for the coffee," he called back. "I'll be in my study doing paperwork if you need me."

His leg ached from ignoring its constant complaints and he limped up the stairs towards his study, resisting the urge to check on the sleeping Alchemist just across the hall. He shook his head and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him thoughtfully. His study was a mess. Articles were hung from the walls and paperwork littered the ground and desk. There was a dirty cup on the floor, turned on its side, and a small plate with a scatter of crumbs spread around it. On top of the desk was a lamp, small and hunched over the work area invitingly. Roy groaned and walked to the desk, clearing a small space from filled out paperwork, making a note to get it to Hawkeye when he had the time.

He pulled the journal from its hiding place, and tossed it onto the writing table suspiciously. Roy wouldn't put it past Edward to rig it with Alchemy, making it nearly impossible to open without exceptional Alchemical skill. Or without Edward. Roy groaned again and decided to take a chance, Edward would find out sooner or later, better to try and hope than to give up and mourn. He took off the lock, trembling slightly and opened the cover.

Nothing.

No bright lights, no blood gushing from various places on his body. Apparently Edward didn't think that anyone would find it, he probably kept it safely hidden within a pocket on his clothing, which only he knew about, or maybe he wanted someone to find it, to break through his false cocky grins and pull him from the shadows, either way, it was a victory on Mustangs part.

He took a large breath and sat down leaning over to click on the lamp. Its warm light lit up the crisp white page and Roy bent over his work and began to read, nervous for what was in store for him.

_ It's been three months since I got Al back, three months since Truth stood before me with a bargain. I didn't know what it had in store for me, but I knew that I was willing to risk everything to get my brother back, no matter what the consequences were. And so I agreed. It wasn't the stupidest mistake I had ever made, no, not in the least, I got Al back, without any missing pieces of my body and I was able to see Winry smile like the sun when we went back to Risembool. _

_ But then that night, that horrible night, I had a dream. _

_ Not out of the ordinary, I know, but it was the fact that it was so brilliant, so real, so _terrifying_. The thing that really stumped me was the fact that I was a little girl, in the middle of the floor. I wasn't me in the dream, I was someone else. A little girl, bloody and bruised, broken. Abused. _

_ And that's when I realized what The Gate had in store for me. _

_ '_Memories can haunt you more than you think, young alchemist, that is a promise_' That's what It had said, mocking all of my accomplishments with just a couple of words. The Gate was burdening me with the memories of others, not just my own. Whether they were good or bad, it never made a difference. They still haunted you. Still controlled you until all that was left was a feelings of dread and a longing to kill yourself, to jump of a bridge and end all the torture. _

_ Just as Truth had sworn._

Roy sat back, mouth gaping open at the secret he had just discovered. This was not something that Edward should have been keeping secret; it was not something he should have been left to deal with on his own. Roy could bet that getting his leg taken would have been better than reliving someone else's memories. You would have no understanding of the matter, nothing to compromise, no knowledge to base the horror on and suppress the terror of it. You would have to deal with the raw, jagged feeling of extreme fear, nothing to hold it down.

Roy shivered involuntarily and rubbed his eyes, horrified and pitying. But Edward didn't need nor want Roy's pity. He needed his help. So, determined to get through it without barfing, he rested his head on the palm of his head and turned the page, loosing himself in the sharp and jumpy handwriting that Edward had.

_ Day 7_

_ We were running. Running away from someone. Someone bad. They had guns and knives and lust for blood in their eyes. Merciless. Stone fallen angels coming to wreck havoc. We had to keep running; otherwise they would make us theirs. They would tear us into pieces and leave us bleeding out on the ground_

_ I tripped and fell to the ground, crying out when I realized my ankle was broken, turned into a grotesque angle. The dust bellowed up around me, coating my white hair, my tan skin, my heart. Weighing me down to the sandy ground._

_ "_Run!_" I screamed at my kin, my younger brother, looking down at me in terror, confusing clouding his cute chubby face. "_Run now, Eyrim, don't let them catch you, run and keep running, don't you look back, go_!" My younger brother started crying, but he leaned down, kissed my forehead and took off running towards the hazy mountains in the distance. He disappeared from view and I breathed a sigh of relief. My brother was safe._

_ I sucked in my breath and pulled myself up slowly, crying out when my ankle cracked under my weight. But I gritted my teeth and pushed forward only to fall back to the ground with a suppressed scream on agony._

_ A shadow fell upon me._

_ "_Lookie 'ere, we gotta girl,_" He looked down at me perversely, smiling crookedly. A group came up behind him, all of them wearing the same horrible blue uniforms, guns slung over their shoulders. One of them chuckled. "_Doesn't look like she can move, maybe we should help her?_" The first man nodded and leaned down to stroke my cheek. I flinched. "_Ah, don' be afraid little one,_" He cooed and smiled wickedly. Then another man pushed through. His face was emotionless and his eyes were cold and he took his gun from his shoulder aimed it at me and said "_Get then hell out of the way, Jerick, our orders were to kill on sight. Women, children and men. Put her out of her pain._" He pushed the gun barrel in between my eyes and I looked to the blue sky and prayed, letting the tears roll down my face. Remorse filled his handsome features and he quietly whispered, "_I'm sorry._" And pulled the trigger._

_ I never will know what happened to my brother._

Roy nearly closed the book and walked away. To even read this was terrible, now he knew what was haunting Ed. It was the past, but it wasn't just his past. It was everyone's. Roy had never wanted anything to do with the Ishbal Civil War, and he was grateful that Edward never had to go through with it. And now, now he was experiencing it through the victim's perspective. Roy didn't doubt there would be more, and it scared him to think that he might be reliving his past as well while pulling Edward from his.

Roy leaned back sadly and rubbed his eyes.

Bad luck had nothing to do with this. Whoever 'The Gate' was, they clearly wanted to see Edward suffer, to drive himself insane with each memory It threw at him.

And so far, It was succeeding.

**Hope you liked this chapter! I worked hard on it, so if you see any mistakes feel free to tell me. I'm hoping to get more reviews for this because they always make me start the next chapter with the intent of making that reviewer happy. I want to get at least three reviews, if thats okay, because they are awesome and I love to hear your feedback. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED AND READ MY STORY! :D**


	6. A Horrible Truth and A Laugh

Roy sipped his coffee calmly, his body relaxed into the brown chair beneath him. But he wasn't calm nor was he relaxed despite what his body language looked like. Inside, his mind was buzzing with unsaid questions and concerns, he was thinking of a way to bring Edward out of the dark without giving away the fact that he had intentionally taken Ed's private journal. Right then, the possibility of this going unnoticed was short of nothing. If Roy didn't say anything, Edward would be sucked into the murky darkness of his terror, if Roy did say something, Edward and his teetering relationship would most likely be ruined by distrust and accusation, and Roy didn't want either to happen.

It was selfish of his to wait, to stop and think of a way to make his friendship with Edward still live despite his treachery, but Roy wanted to be near Ed and without his trust, Edward would make it close to impossible. Roy ran his fingers through his hair lazily, plopping the coffee cup onto the low table, pushing himself from the chair his form had molded to. He stretched out, ignoring the pops of his joints, and limped towards the kitchen, starting when he saw a disheveled Edward talking in a hushed voice with Alphonse. He seemed desperate, and by the way he tugged at the end of his ponytail, he was most likely stressed.

"What's the problem?" Roy asked, leaning against the counter in attempt to appear lackadaisical. Edward jumped around and pushed hair from his eyes, a flustered blush coating his nose and cheeks. Outside the storm raged on, throwing sheets of hail and rain at the windows and roof. Edward's head sagged and he mumbled out, looking at Roy from under his absurdly long eyelashes, "Have you seen a little brown journal?"

Roy struggled not to let the guilt and pain show on his face, and apparently, from Ed's unchanged expression, he succeeded. Roy raised his eyebrow.

"Why Fullmetal, I didn't know you had a diary." Edwards golden eyes jumped up to his and glared at him pointedly. "It's not a diary, Jackass, I'm serious, have you seen it or not?"

Roy shrugged. "No." He lied, hoping it slipped through his lips unnoticed. Edward's exotic eyes narrowed suspiciously, but if he knew what Roy did, he wasn't saying anything. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead he moved to push past Mustang with malicious. Roy grabbed onto his forearm.

"Please, Edward, just tell me what's going on. Al and I just want to help." Edward's lips pulled up over his teeth. "I can deal with it myself." And with that he pulled his arm from Roy's grip and strode out of the kitchen.

Roy sighed and began to limp after him. It wouldn't be good to leave Edward alone, especially after Ed's rampage through his guest bedroom. Roy's leg pain was pushed aside as he jumped up the carpeted stairs one at a time, determined to make Edward spit it out. He tiptoed towards Edwards room and pushed the door open a crack to find the golden boy staring at the wall in distaste. He got up from the bed and began pacing around. A twist of emotion went through his face and Roy felt himself react with surprise. It wasn't very often that you got to see Edwards true emotions, instead of anger and stubbornness, and so with the emotions so clear on his features, Roy stared in fascination as each emotion flitted on his face.

Anger, guilt, self-pity, determination, despair. It was hard to keep up with everything as they went racing through from his face at a fast pace. Roy sighed as Ed got up and started throwing things around, in hopes of finding the very thing that was in his office at that very moment. He turned away and went towards the door across from it into his office, looking at the loathsome and sad journal sitting on his desk. He clicked on the lamp and sat down, opening up to a random place before letting himself become absorbed into the sad, jumpy writing of Ed.

_Day 56_

_ I've grown tired of her attitude. She acts as if I am not her father, as if I have no control over what she does. Once, long ago, she told me she would always be the good little girl she wanted to be, that she would never loose herself to drugs, sex, or anything of the sort. But lately, with the bags growing under her eyes, her continuous jumpy, nervous movements, I fear she has gotten into something far deeper than just drugs._

_ It was on a cold winter morning that the police come. They are wearing mournful expressions, their faces drawn, stressed and pitying. And it is then when I know what has happened. They took my little baby. My sweet sweet Angelica, whose hair was a summers yellow and blue eyes were jewels under that brilliance. _

_ "We're sorry for your loss." They say, but I do not hear them. My wife comes up behind me, her smile disappearing as she sees the tears in my eyes. She knows. Sobs escape from her, and she hunches over, hands pulled to her chest as the sorrow, the pain so raw, so painful, envelopes, her, wrapping its suffocating cloak around her shoulders and heart._

_ But I can't comfort her if I can't comfort myself. I repeat to myself over and over. "No. No. No." Maybe this is a dream, I hope. Maybe I'll wake up and find my little girl next to me, sleeping like the angel she was named after. But no. I know for a fact now that she's gone. Dead. Pulled away from us by the horrible, deadly men who sells drugs and knew just how much Angelica owed. _

_ My wife falls to her knees and cries and cries and cries. We are broken, and will be forever without our little girl, without our beautiful daughter. I had hoped to survive through this life without any horrible losses without anything to weigh on our shoulders and hold us to the ground. But I was wrong. My daughter is gone and she's never coming back. And I can't help but feel that this is somehow my fault._

_ My baby girl. Gone._

Roy scrubbed his eyes and turned to the very end of the journal. if he was truly going to help Edward it would be by reading the last entry, the one that had caused Edward such grief, such a rampage in his heart. Roy was almost certain it would be there.

_Day 632_

_ This never should have happened. I shouldn't have to of been forced to do something as horrible as this. Nobody should experience this horror, nobody should experience this pain. I have seen my share, but not to this degree. Why the Fuhrer would call to such extreme it escapes me. But I know that I must do whatever it takes to live through this. I have dreams, goals, things I need to accomplish. Nothing is going to take that away. Not a doubt. Not a war._

_ I walk down the sandy path with deliberate grace, hoping to appear confident. Show fear and you are dead. The sandy dirt crunches under my military boots and I scuff them against the ground indifferently. They mean nothing in this place full of blood. I crouch down in the shadows, which is hard to do when the sun beats down on you, menacing and unmerciful. I sprint towards the tan walls of one of the Ishvalan houses. Each step seems to echo around me, painfully loud._

_ I tense as a shadow pushes from the edge of the bend, showing a shadow of a tall, thin man. Don't move, I warn myself, don't move an inch._

_ Seconds tick by and everything feels like it's crashing down around me like child blocks, troublesome and irritating. I need to annihilate the enemy. But are they really the enemy? No, they are just trying to live, as I am. Sweat pours down the sides of my face and my hair sticks to my forehead. I don't have time to wipe it away, the enemy jumps from the corner, gun drawn and ready to fire._

_ No! I scream to myself. No! I reach out my hand and snap. Fire leaps from my fingers and were there was once a strong young man, fighting for his people, is a blackened corpse, falling limply to the ground as the smell of burning flesh and skin suffocates me._

_ The guilt swallows me._

Roy jumped up from the table, turning the chair over in the process. He backed away slowly, breathing shallowly as fear jumbled up inside of him. It wasn't possible that Edward could have access to Roy's memories, thoughts and sacred dreams. They were private, and though Roy knew it was not Edward's fault, he couldn't help but feel fury, fury because his thoughts were being looked at and analyzed, fury that they were not his own anymore.

Roy put his head in his hands. There couldn't be anyone else with the same Fire Alchemy gloves, unless they were being incredibly discreet, which was near impossible. No wonder Edward freaked, to live through someone else's thoughts, and try to act as if that someone were the same, even though you knew their thoughts, was unbelievably hard. Not that Roy could understand. He had lived his live in blissful ignorance, not even believing such an impossible thing was possible, thinking that Edward had suffered and that was that. But how wrong he was.

How incredibly stupid he had been.

How could he not have seen this? How could he not of seen what was so blatantly obvious, waving around in his face? That Ed was suffering, more so than he originally thought, more so than anyone could see. He had seen the subtle hints of Edward's pain. In the way his large, arrogant smile wavered slightly. The way his eyes glazed over and a storm of inner turmoil entered them to form a deep, sorrowful gold. He had left such obvious hints, and yet had kept it hidden for so long, so skillfully that even he, Roy Mustang, master at reading a person like a book, had not seen it.

And now Edward was paying the price. He was going insane; anyone could see that, with the emotions, memories thoughts that weren't his own. If only Roy had looked harder, if only he hadn't been to busy ignoring the boy, trying to stifle the attraction he had felt for him.

There's no point complaining about it if you're not doing anything about, his mind lectured him, bringing his pitiful thoughts to a halt. Moving back towards the table, he gave the journal a distasteful look before sitting back down before it. It was open, flipped to some random page from when his fingers had slipped from his page, and the day was unmarked and there was only one sentence on the page, causing curiosity to blossom inside him.

_Memories, the forever punishment._

It sounded like complete nonsense to Roy, gibberish placed together to create a poetic line, most likely the persons famous last words. For all Roy knew it could be nothing but something Ed felt the need to write down, but something about the curved handwriting, so different from Edwards gave Roy a foreboding feeling. Did Edward let someone else see such a private thing? Surely not, considering the immense importance that leaked from the pages. So who had written such a horrible, belittling quotation? Who had punished Edward with this saying, so that every time he opened his book, he would look at that and know, just what he did wrong, just what his desperation had brought him.

Roy's thoughts were immediately cut off, by the loud out of place clicking of a door being opened, and he turned around, book opened in his lap, to meet the eyes of a sad, downcast Edward Elric. His eyes narrowed momentarily, and slowly, his gaze shifted downward, taking in the sight before him.

His own journal, clasped in Roy's tightening hand.

Rage entered the young boy's gaze, such a ferocious emotion, that it had Roy backpedaling, locked in place, excuses dying on his tongue. Nothing could get him out of the fury which was headed his way. Striding forward Edward snatched the book from Roy's clasp, cold violent rage burning in his tawny eyes.

"Why the hell do you have this?" He questioned coldly, enough venom leaking into each word to make Roy flinch. What was he now? Brought down to a civilian by the untouchable Fullmetal Alchemist. Where were his indifferent masks, his condescending smirks, his hot impatient retorts? With one sentence, Ed had brought down the all mighty Roy Mustang to his level, and with just one, lethal, distasteful glare, he had made Roy feel powerless.

"I'm sorry."

The words were no more than a whisper, and in the silent act of submission he bowed his head.

"You're sorry?" Edward spat out fiercely, looking at Roy in disbelief. "You steal my notebook, force out my greatest secret, and your sorry?"

Edward pulled back a fist, and punched.

God, Roy had been expecting it, waiting for Edward fury to reach a breaking point until it became physical, but nothing could save him from the hate, the anger directed into that punch. Roy feel back onto the ground in total defeat. Loud, stomping footsteps moved closer towards him, and he flinched, anticipating all hell to break lose on him, only to squint as Ed's advantages came to an utter halt.

"_Brother_!" Alphonse bit out, gritting his teeth when Ed yanked one arm from his grasp. He was holding Ed his underarms, locking Edward in place as he trembled with uncontrollable rage.

"You god damn _bastard_! I will _kill_ you! If you think you can get away with that, then you are _fucking_ wrong!" He gave a vindictive pull away from Alphonse sudden tense figure, using it to his advantage. He pulled forward, breaking lose only to be pulled back when Alphonse snapped out of his stupor.

"What did you do Brigadier General?" Al was deadly calm, only concerned for Edward's wellbeing. If Roy had laid one hand one Edward, than he knew he would feel far more than just broken bones and bruises.

"I didn't do anything," Roy hissed out, glaring at the flailing boy. Golden eyes narrowed in hate and malice. "I was trying to help. He wouldn't let me, so I forced my way in. Who would've known the great Fullmetal Alchemist had a _diary_?" It was easy to turn to mean taunts instead of tender apologies; it was the only thing Roy knew how to work with. To bring about the long rant, and to leave it at that. Roy should have known that would not be how it ended.

"Let me go, Al." Alphonse gave a weak shake of his head before dubiously dropping his hands from Ed's arms. Immediately, Edward pulled away from Alphonse weary hands.

He glared down at Roy in cold indifference.

"I can't believe I trusted you."

That one comment cut through Roy like a knife, and he bowed his head again under its weight, grimacing away the mask.

"Look-" Roy began only to get cut off by a long, drawn out chuckle.

"I love those sappy scenes where the Protagonist and his lover make up. But to tell you the truth, this just makes me sick." The voice was male and rough, as if they had spent their entire life smoking, and slowly, from the shadows of the doorway emerged a tall, lithe person, with dark blonde hair sticking up around the crown of their head. Roy swallowed as horrible memories entered his mind.

And a Fox mask that covered the wicked cruel smile underneath.

"Finally," The fiend sighed, "Your memories will be ours."

And the lights blinked out, plunging them into darkness.

**Authors Note-** _Sorry I was really late with the chapter, I have been focusing on my new story _Ensnarled_ and I got kind of carried away. Plus, inspiration is kind of hard to find. Review if you want me to continue! (sorry its short!)_


	7. Authors Note

I'm not completely sure about this, but here it goes.

I'm fairly certain that this story is dead.

Meaning I will not be writing anymore of it unless I have a change of heart in the furture. Honestly, I really dislike this story. For one, I started writing it mearly for the sake of appeasing my need for feedback, and two, it has no plot and barely any character development. The sentences are somewhat overdone, and Edward (and Roy in some cases) are completely and tragically OOC.

Which makes me kinda cringe.

Plus the grammer is horrible and blah blah blah blah sucks blah blah.

I appreciate everyone who favorited this story and reviewed it because, well, it made me feel appreciated. I love you guys. Really.

Anywho, thank you for following and considering my first FanFic, and following on my journey!

You guys are awesome :D

-Anais


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